Unresolved Issues
by CoreyW
Summary: Arnold is fourteen and what happened to his parents in the jungle is still unknown. As Arnold is coping with the fear that he will never find his parents, destiny intervenes as Helga stumbles upon Arnold's father's journal...
1. Chapter One: Destiny

Unresolved Issues

Chapter One: Destiny

* * *

Author's Note: Hey Arnold is copyright of Nickelodeon. This fanfic takes place years after the series, when the kids are in highschool. It takes place after the movie, after Helga's confession of her feelings to Arnold. It also takes place after Arnold finds his father's journal in the last episode "The Journal". That's about all you need to know. Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey, Arnold!" said Gerald, snapping Arnold out of his train of thought. Arnold looked over to Gerald, standing over his desk as everyone else was leaving. "The bell just rang. You feelin' alright?"

"What?" said Arnold, still trying to collect his thoughts. His mind had been occupied the entire day. He had paid almost no attention to anything his entire day in high school today. Arnold was a pretty good student, but he had too much to think about today. Conflicting feelings whirled around in his head; anticipation, anxiety, hope, despair, and above all, fear.

"I asked if you were feelin' alright" said Gerald, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "You look kinda pale."

Arnold wasn't surprised; after all, he knew anyone in his position would be pale. But he couldn't think of anyone who could possibly be going through what he was.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," lied Arnold. "I just…haven't been getting a lot of sleep the past few days. I guess I'm just sorta…out of it."

Gerald looked down at Arnold for another moment, looking like he didn't really believe him. Then he shrugged.

"Alright, man. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Sure."

Gerald walked away. The short form of Phoebe was waiting for Gerald at the door. Gerald said something to make her laugh then they walked away together. Arnold smiled a bit. Seeing his friend happy raised his spirit a bit; unfortunately, not by much.

Arnold gathered up his books in his bookbag. At the bottom of a bag was the book he carried around with him everywhere he went. It was his father's journal, the one thing that made Arnold feel like he was truly connected with his parents. In it was an account of his parent's adventures in San Lorenzo, their encounters with the mysterious Green-Eyed People, and the last thing his father wrote before he and his mother left on a plane to San Lorenzo. They weren't heard from again. He had gotten it when he was nine, but even now just seeing it made Arnold get a huge lump in his stomach. It made him feel even more emotional today. It was the second most precious possession he owned. The only item he valued even more was at home; it was also the reason why he had been preoccupied the whole day.

Arnold walked out of the classroom and out of the doors of the high school. He had just entered several weeks ago. Luckily most of his old friends were still in his classes. Gerald, Phoebe, Eugene, Harold, Stinky, Sid, and most of his other friends were still around. And of course, there was another important person Arnold still saw almost every day, whether he wanted to or not. Unfortunately, on a day like this, he felt like his life would be made much easier if he didn't see her.

Arnold went up to the bus, which was just about to leave. He was the last person to enter. The bus was filled with the usual clamor of noise and moderate excitement. Feeling particularly anti-social, he sat close to the back of the bus. Even though he felt bad about doing so, he made sure he sat far away from Gerald, since he didn't want Gerald to inquire more about his condition. He sat in the old seat and, despite his better judgment, his mind drifted back to his unique problem.

He was deep in thought when he heard an all too familiar voice behind him.

"You know, thinking all day about something that'd shake you up _that_ much can't be good for you."

Arnold sighed. He had hoped he could avoid her today. He looked behind his chair and saw a girl with a pink bow in her blond hair. She gave Arnold her usual cynical smile.

"Hello Helga," said Arnold, without emotion.

"Hey Football Head," she said, in a failed attempt to relax Arnold a bit. Her smile dropped and suddenly she seemed serious. "So, what's got you so messed up?"

"Nothing," said Arnold.

Helga leaned back in her seat and let out a humorless laugh.

"That kind of brush off might convince Tall Hair Boy over there," she said, pointing over to Gerald, who was sitting near the front of the bus with Phoebe, "but I know better. Something's been really messing with you all day."

"It's nothing."

Helga's tone got a bit more impatient.

"You're a terrible liar, you know."

"It's really nothing."

"It's not nothing!" she said, suddenly raising her voice. She sat up in her seat to look Arnold in the eyes. Arnold saw that she was really concerned. Arnold sighed again. Over the years, Arnold had been able to tolerate to Helga's somewhat aggressive personality. Arnold knew it wasn't how she really was, but it was normally the façade she hid behind. Whenever Arnold saw glimpses of her true self, it usually made Arnold relaxed and happy. However, today it was the last thing he wanted to see. Since he confessed to him when they were nine, he knew how she felt about him, even though he didn't like to admit he knew. He knew she was really worried and that he was hurting her feelings by not telling her what was wrong. It made him feel terrible, but he knew telling her would just make her worry more.

Arnold looked away.

"I'm sorry…but it's…it's something I have to deal with on my own," he said.

Helga did not say anything after that. The bus began to skid to a stop. Arnold quickly grabbed his bookbag and got up from his seat.

"Hey, Arnold," said Helga as he got up. Arnold turned back to her. She looked down at the floor, trying to avoid showing her concern. "I just…I mean, I wanted to say…you know…take care, alright Football Head?"

Arnold stared at her. Deep down, he knew how hard this must be for her to see him in this mood. He nodded towards her.

"I…I will," he said, being not entirely truthful. "Thanks Helga."

Helga didn't say anything. She just looked up with a faux smile. Arnold turned and exited the bus.

* * *

Helga watched as Arnold walked off the bus. He walked into the street and began walking towards the boarding house. As he left, he accidentally bumped into a young man wearing a brown coat and sunglasses as he entered the bus. The man apologized as he walked inside. He took Arnold's former seat on the bus as it began to move.

Helga slumped back in her seat. Her heart was racing and she was very worried. She grasped inside her shirt to get out her locket. On the gold locket was a picture of Arnold.

"Arnold…" she said softly to herself. "Why must you keep yourself locked away? Why must you insist upon taking the world on your adorable little shoulders? What's really going through that cute, albeit unusually shaped, head of yours? Why can't you bear your soul to me as I ha-"

"Excuse me."

Helga suddenly stopped talking. She hastily put the locket back inside her shirt as she looked at the source of the voice. It came from the man in the coat and sunglasses who had taken Arnold's seat.

"What do you want?!" said Helga, frustrated at being interrupted during her soliloquy.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," said the man, in a strange accent, "but I found this book in my seat. Does it belong to you?"

"Huh?"

The man held up an old looking book, with a worn brown cover. On the front of it was the word "Journal". Helga's heart suddenly missed a beat.

"That must be Arnold's journal!" she blurted out, without thinking.

"Arnold?" said the man. "Oh, so you know whose this is? Good, you can return it." The man held out the book for Helga to take. She hesitated. The main raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

Helga couldn't believe it. It was as if she was being offered the key to all knowledge. All that she ever cared about, all that she ever wanted to know could be in that book. She craved to look at it; however she was afraid that if she did, Arnold might find out and get furious. Helga knew that if someone ever read any of her books of poetry, she would strike them immediately. Arnold, however, would probably just get very angry or, even worse, very sad. Helga didn't want that to happen. However, she had to take it. After all, Arnold would probably want it back. All Helga figured she had to do was give the book to Arnold and resist any temptation to look at it.

After processing all this, Helga reached out a jittering hand and took the journal. The man in sunglasses smiled and turned back around.

Helga stared at the book in her lap. As if afraid of being too close to it, she took it from her lap and sat it aside to her on her seat. She tried to avoid looking at it and imagining what could be written in it, but every few seconds her eyes constantly drew back to the book.

Suddenly, without turning around, the man in the coat spoke.

"So, this Arnold…he's a friend of yours, yes?"

_He is the single most important person in the whole of my existence, _thought Helga._ He is more essential than air, because without him I would shrivel and die. My life is nothing but a hollow, pathetic husk without knowing that he is in it. Friendship does not even begin to describe the attachment I feel to him._

"Something like that, yeah," said Helga. She shifted her tone to become more hostile. "What's it to you?"

"Right, sorry," said the man. "I probably shouldn't have ask. It's none of my business…I was just curious if you were going to read his journal or not."

Before she could tell herself not to, her eyes drifted back to the journal. She glared at it, then at the man.

"Of course not! Why would I do that? I don't care about what's in there! Crimeny, what kind of sick creep are you, asking all that?!"

The bus began to screech to a stop. Helga grabbed the book and got up to depart. To her surprise, the man in the coat got up as well. He walked behind her as she walked towards the bus exit.

"It's not like it would be wrong to, you know," said the man from behind Helga. "After all, you friend's journal just happening to be there and you finding it before it is forever lost. It's not a coincidence. Think of it as…destiny."

Helga and the man stepped out of the bus into the street. Helga briefly looked at the man, who was smiling. She glanced at the book again and clutched it.

"Yeah, what do you know?" she said coldly at the man, before turning to walk towards her house. He continued to speak as she began to leave.

"Oh, I know more than you think, Ms. Pataki."

Helga stopped.

"Hey wait a minute," she said, starting to turn around. "How did you know my-" She saw that there was no longer anyone behind her.

"-name?" she said, confused. The bus door's closed and began to roll down the street. Helga looked around, but she could not see the man anywhere. She began to feel very uncomfortable when she felt a tap on her shoulders.

"Helga?"

Despite herself, she gasped, dropped the journal, and jerked around. She was surprised to see it was only Phoebe, looking at her with concern.

"Oh, Feebs. Sorry about that," said Helga, picking up the journal. "I'm just a bit weirded out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, there was this guy…" She stopped herself from saying the rest. "Ugh, nevermind. It's nothing. Just some weirdo. Just forget it."

"Okay. Forgetting." Phoebe looked at the journal. "What's that, Helga?"

Helga instinctively put the book behind her, nervously.

"Oh, it's…it's nothing," said Helga, trying to think of a lie. "It's just...um…this book I'm reading."

"Oh, neat. What's it about?"

"Yeah, you know, it's the one about…um…the wizards in that school with…er…Da Vinci and they're…um…" Helga clutched the book. "I'm sorry, Feebs, but I gotta run. I'll call you later, kay?"

"Um, sure Helga," said Phoebe, looking a bit confused.

Helga quickly walked down the street, her gaze always returning to the journal. She thought about what that strange man had said.

"Destiny, eh?" she said, looking down at the journal once more. With that, Helga hurried home.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set as Arnold sat in his room, staring at the phone on his desk. He knew eventually he would have to make the call or he wouldn't get anywhere. He turned his gaze over to the single most important object in his life. It was a map of San Lorenzo that he had found in his father's journal. On it was a trail that Arnold could only assumed was his parents' line of flight on the day that they left and never returned. If someone could follow that trail, presumably it could lead them to where his parent's landed. All he had to do was get there.

However, since he had discovered the map at age nine, Arnold had learned that getting there was much more difficult than expected. His first instinct upon discovering the map was to contact the proper authorities. They promised they'd look into it and, after over a year of hearing nothing, they said that since they had searched the area on the map when his parents were first reported missing, they saw no sense in looking again.

After this, Arnold had turned his attention towards acquiring a private plane to San Lorenzo, since flying their commercially was not possible, as San Lorenzo was a dangerous jungle region. This too proved challenging. Aside from the astronomical cost of using a private plane, he also found that any organization he went to refused to take him to a dangerous area such as San Lorenzo, since they were afraid they would be legally responsible for any harm that may inflicted upon a minor such as Arnold.

Arnold had called so many organizations to use a private plane that he had lost count. And now he had finally reached the last organization he could think of to get a plane. If they said no, Arnold had no idea what he would do. The grave reality of this situation had preoccupied Arnold all day.

Arnold stared at the phone, deathly afraid. Finally, Arnold reached out and grabbed the phone. He dialed the number. A woman answered the phone.

"Blue Skies Jets. How may I help you?"

Arnold opened his mouth, but found himself unable to say anything for a moment.

"Hello?" said the women on the phone.

"Y-yes, sorry," said Arnold. "My name is Arnold and…I need to charter a plane."

The women said nothing for a moment.

"Umm…pardon me, sir, but how old are you?"

Arnold sighed.

"I just turned fourteen."

"Sir, it is against our policy to charter planes to underage-"

"I know," said Arnold, hastily. "I know. You're not the first place I called but…just listen…I need a plane. I need to get to San Lorenzo. Or else…"

"Or else what, sir?"

"Or else…I'll never know what happened to them…"

The women on the phone said nothing.

"Well…umm…will you be accompanied by an adult?"

Arnold perked up a bit.

"Yes, yes of course. My Grandpa."

"Well…as long as your guardian signs a liability waver and accompanies you, there shouldn't be a problem…"

Arnold was smiling. This was the first place he had called in a while that hadn't hung up on him right after they heard his age. However, he didn't get his hopes up; he knew he had another problem he had to face.

"Umm…how much will this cost?"

The woman on the phone told him. Arnold paused for a long time, then asked for the women to repeat the number. She did. He was suddenly disheartened.

"Wow…that's…that's a lot."

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"Yes…I…I can't afford that right now. Is…is there some kind of way I can arrange payment after the trip?"

"I'm sorry, but you will need to pay up front."

"Are you sure? Isn't there any other-"

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing I can do. It's company policy."

Arnold didn't say anything.

"Are you alright, sir? If you come up with the money, you're welcome to call-"

"No…no that's fine," said Arnold, quietly. "Thank you. Goodbye."

Arnold hung up the phone. He stared at the phone for a few more moments before he flung it against the wall. He sat in his chair, putting his hand over his face as he felt moisture rise in his eyes.

_I couldn't do it. I couldn't do anything, _thought Arnold. _I'm a failure._

Wanting to feel some comfort, he walked over to his bookbag to get his father's journal. He rummaged through his bookbag and was horrified to see that he couldn't find it. He turned the bag over, dumping out all its contents. He searched through all of them, but he couldn't find it. He began to feel tears stream over his face.

"Lord…" he said, quietly. "Where is it?" Without realizing it, he raised his voice to a scream. "Where is it?!"

* * *

Outside of Arnold's boarding house, the man in the brown coat and sunglasses stood on the sidewalk, looking up at the window where he had just heard the scream. He had a sad expression on his face.

"Well," he said quietly to himself, "let's see how this plays out."

He turned away from the boarding house and hailed a cab. As it sped away, night fell on the city.

* * *

Helga was up in her room, looking at the journal on her desk. She had spent the past few hours trying to work out what she should do. Finally, she found she could not contain her curiosity anymore. It was likely that the answers to all the questions she had about Arnold was in the journal. How could she resist? After all, like the man said, it was destiny.

She walked over to her desk and sat down.

"Okay...deep breath" she said to herself, taking a deep breath. "Alright...let's do this." She opened the journal.


	2. Chapter Two: Blank Pages

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Two: Blank Pages

* * *

Authors Notes: This chapter contain numerous direct quotes from "The Journal" episode of Hey Arnold. While it is not necessary to watch that episode before reading this chapter, it certainly couldn't hurt.

* * *

Arnold rushed out of his room and down the stairs. He was breathing rapidly, fearing the worst. He had nearly torn his room apart, but he couldn't find the journal anywhere. He knew he had it at school, so the only place it could have possibly been was on the bus. The only explanation was that it had fallen out of his bookbag while he had been sitting there. 

He reached the foot of the stairs, nearly tripping over his pig, Abner. Abner stared up at him, with a look that vaguely resembled concern. Arnold rushed toward the door and put his hand on the doorknob.

"Hey, Shortman. Where you going?"

Arnold turned to see his Grandpa staring at him, wearing a smile.

"I'm just going out for a few minutes," said Arnold, trying his best to hide his emotions. However, much to Arnold's dismay, he apparently didn't hide them enough; Grandpa stared at him for a moment before dropping his smile.

"You feeling alright, Arnold? You seem really pale." Grandpa paused for a minute. "You didn't eat any of those raspberries, did you?"

"No Grandpa. I just forgot something. I'll be right back."

"Oh, alright. Need me to drive you?"

"No!" said Arnold, accidentally raising his voice. The last thing he wanted was for Grandpa to realize he had lost the most important thing his father ever left him. Arnold already felt angry and disappointed in himself at his failure in getting the plane. Letting Grandpa know his actions would only make Arnold feel even more ashamed.

Grandpa was taken aback at Arnold's sudden yell. Arnold avoided looking Grandpa in the eye.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to yell. I'll be back in less than an hour."

"Alright Arnold," said Grandpa, uneasily. "Just…be careful."

"I will." Arnold opened the door and exited the boarding house. He walked out into the street. Despite himself, he began to think more about how stupid his actions had been. Now he had undoubtedly made Grandpa worried about him as well. He never wanted to make Grandpa or Grandma ever feel bad because of his actions. Arnold hung his head as he walked down the sidewalk.

He looked up, trying to suppress his compounding depression enough so that he could think. Unconsciously, his hand touched the rim of his tiny blue hat, as he often found himself doing whenever he thought of anything relating to his parents; his hat was one of the few things his parents had given him before they left.

Arnold realized that the buses did not run that late in the evening, so he would have to walk to the bus station at "the end of the line." The bus he was on would have to be there. Hopefully someone would still be working there to let him on the bus. He just prayed that the journal was still there.

* * *

Helga opened the journal and began reading it at her desk. Her heart was racing, since she thought she would finally get a bigger window into the thoughts and feelings of her beloved. 

"_March 15__th__," _read the journal. "_Today I met the woman I'm going to marry…"  
_

Helga almost fell out of her chair. She couldn't believe that she had hit such an important topic on the first page.

"Oh Arnold," she said to herself, clutching at the locket beneath her shirt. "Is it possible that you feel the same way I do? Is it possible that, in the depths of your soul, you know our hearts are destined to beat as one? Was that man right? Was it truly destiny that let me come across this book, where your sacred heart is poured onto every page?" Helga read on.

_"We met when I stumbled into a research party. I was out hiking with my college friend, Eduardo, an anthropologist from San Lorenzo. I fell behind the group…"_

_What is this? _thought Helga, confused. _Arnold was never in college. What is this about?_

Helga looked on the inside cover of the book and noticed something she hadn't before. Inside the cover, written in bad cursive handwriting, were the words "Property of Miles…" A last name was written, but Helga wasn't able to make it out.

However, that didn't matter to Helga. She became extremely angry.

"I don't believe this!" said Helga, standing up from her seat. "It's not even Arnold's journal! I worried and got all worked up for nothing! Crimeny!" Helga knocked the journal off the desk and onto the floor. "Hmph, so much for destiny and all that bull."

Helga sat back down, scowling, when her eyes were drawn back to the journal on the floor. It had fallen open to a page near the back. Helga's expression softened when she saw something written on the page. She picked up the book and read it, to make sure she had seen it right. She gasped. The world "Arnold" appeared on the page it had fallen open to. She read more.

_"After it was all over, everything became still and silent. The volcanic eruption suddenly ceased and nature itself became quiet. Stella handed the baby to me. I never felt as much joy in my life as when I held him in my arms. He was so lucky. And so were we. We had a miracle baby named Arnold."_

Helga was so shocked she dropped the book on the desk. She found that her hand was shaking. She could hardly believe it. The only explanation was that Miles was Arnold's father, and this was his journal. Helga sunk back down in the chair, overcome by the gravity of the object she possessed. Arnold's parents had been missing since he was a baby and he never mentioned anything about them. Helga knew next to nothing about his parents, but suddenly all the information about them was at her fingertips. She was excited. In many ways, this was even better than finding Arnold's journal.

However, at the same time, Helga also felt very guilty. She knew Arnold would be worried about what had happened to the journal. She knew it must have been precious to him, just like his hat, another item left to him by his parents. She knew she had to return it to him as soon as possible tomorrow before he became depressed. Also, considering Arnold's fragile mood earlier that day, Helga had a feeling the emotional consequences of returning the journal even later than tomorrow morning would be devastating.

Helga flipped back to the beginning of the journal. Since she couldn't return the journal any sooner, she might as well read it. It was impossible for her resist. She quickly began reading the first page, about how Miles met Stella, Arnold's mom, after coming upon her research group. After that, they took a stroll through the jungle to-

A knocking came upon Helga's door. Helga, gritting her teeth, glared up as Olga cracked open the door and leaned her head in through the doorframe. Helga groaned. It was bad enough she had to put up with her perfect sister during the day, ever since she came in to visit from Alaska. But now it seemed she had to put up with her sister barging in her room at night, at the most inopportune possible.

"What is it?!" snapped Helga, quickly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Baby Sister," said Olga, gently. "I just thought I heard you shouting a few minutes ago. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Olga," said Helga, quickly and filled with bitterness. "Now get out of my room. I'm busy."

"Because you know how much I worry about you, Baby Sister."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Get out of my room."

"Okay. Good night, Baby Sister."

Olga stepped back into the hall and closed the door. Helga was about to read on in the journal, when Olga quickly opened the door and leaned in her room again.

"Oh, one more thing…"

"What is it?!" shouted Helga.

"My other Little Sis is coming over tomorrow. We're going to go out for dinner. I was wondering if you wanted to come with us."

"Other Little Sis? What are you…" Suddenly, realization hit Helga. "Oh lord," she said quietly. Helga had briefly forgotten that Olga was entered in the Big Sister Program, which assigns motherless kids a teenage girl to hang out with them. Worse yet, Olga was assigned to watch over Lila, the only girl on the planet who acted more polite and perfect than Olga did. Helga could barely tolerate either of them separately, but together they made Helga want to gag. Helga couldn't stand Lila and her "ever so" rose-colored, naive view of the world. Granted, most of Helga's hatred for Lila was based on the fact that Arnold had had a crush on her until fifth grade, but Helga still found her intolerable.

"So, do you want to come with Lila and me to dinner or not?" asked Olga, politely.

"I'll pass," said Helga. "Now, get out of my room."

Olga looked disappointed, but she didn't argue the issue.

"Okay…let me know if you change your mind, Baby Sister. Good night."

Olga walked down the hall and Helga slammed the door behind her. Helga quickly ran back to her desk and continued reading the journal.

She read through the first few pages, which detailed Miles and Stella's blossoming relationship. Helga was overcome by how romantic their exploits throughout the jungle were. Two people alone together in a foreign land, against the depths of nature itself. It was the stuff of fairy tales. Helga thought it was only appropriate that the object of her undying affection had been born from two such people.

She read on to read an account of a trek through the mountains Stella and Miles had taken. They inadvertently fell into a river, which lead to a waterfall. They were both certain they were dead. Even though Helga knew they would survive, she couldn't stop her heart from racing as she read the story. Miles and Stella fell from the waterfall, only to be caught in a makeshift net. Once safe, they immediately saw a figure fleeing from the scene. They tried to rush after him, but they were too late.

"_Our mysterious savior was gone," _read the journal, "_but then, Stella saw his calling card on the wall. It was the symbol of the elusive Green-Eyed People, the original inhabitants of San Lorenzo, thought to be a lost civilization like the Mayans and the subject of many incredible stories, but whom no outsider had ever seen. Clearly, the Green-Eyes saved our lives. Stella and I vowed to thank them somehow, to pay them back through some good deed of our own."_

_Green-Eyed People, eh? _thought Helga, who had never heard of them before. _I should probably ask Phoebe about that tomorrow. She usually knows about history and that sort of thing._

Making a mental note to do that, Helga read onward.

_"Monday: busy day. We learned from Eduardo that the evil river pirate, La Sombra, had stolen a sacred relic called the Corazon from the Green-Eyes. We figured that returning this precious artifact would be the perfect opportunity to pay the Green-Eyes back. So Stella and I tracked La Sombra down…"_

Helga was completely enthralled as she read on about how Miles and Stella cleverly retrieved the Corazon, an object so sacred that Miles dared not look upon it, forcing him to cover it with a tarp. Stella and Miles escaped, leaving behind La Sombra, who swore he would get the Corazon back if it was the last thing he ever did. Miles and Stella left the Corazon for the Green-Eyes to retrieve, after which the Green-Eyes left them two medallions, symbolically accepting Miles and Stella as their family.

Helga continued to read for the next hour or so. The journal detailed Miles and Stella's wedding (where Helga was surprised to discover that Arnold's pig, Abner, was a wedding present to Miles and Stella from the Green-Eyes), their adventure shortly afterwards in curing a deadly sleeping sickness that had struck the Green-Eyes, and many other exploits. But nothing interest Helga more than the story of Arnold's birth, which she had peaked at earlier when the journal fell in the floor. She could hardly believe Arnold was born in an ancient Green-Eye temple, during a volcanic eruption, and, through some miracle, lived. More amazing was the fact that the eruption suddenly stopped the moment Arnold was born. To know that Arnold's birth was as passionate as Helga's feelings for him filled her with joy.

The journal read on to say that, soon after Arnold's birth, they decided the jungles of San Lorenzo were too dangerous to raise a baby in, so they moved back to this very city. They loved Arnold very much and sacrificed their jobs and dreams for him. Helga felt moved. She was touched that parents of that type could exist, while her own parents barely acknowledged her existence.

Finally, Helga reached the last page of the journal. As she read it, she began to feel moisture enter her eyes.

"_Eduardo arrived quite unexpectedly today. He came to tell us there has been another, much worse outbreak of the deadly sleeping sickness in San Lorenzo. The new strain of the disease is spreading all through the region and many Green-Eyes have already died. Eduardo begged us to go on this one final mission to help them. It was a heartbreaking decision, but the Green-Eyes are like family to us. They saved our lives again and again, helped us to safety right before our baby was born. I really, really don't want to leave Arnold, but our trip back to San Lorenzo will be quick. Mom and Dad can look after him. Before we know it, we'll be back, playing with our boy. I know that the whole time we're there, we'll both miss our Arnold. Terribly."_

The rest of the journal after that was nothing but blank pages. What should have been filled with joyful accounts of raising Arnold in his ongoing infancy, there was nothing but white space; a testament to the childhood Arnold had been denied.

Finally, Helga knew the truth.

Blinking the lingering tears in her eyes away, Helga gently closed the journal and placed it on the desk. She walked over to her door, making sure it was locked. Quietly, she opened the door to her closet and entered it. In her closet was a wooden sculpture she had made of Arnold. Around the sculpture were books over her poetry, the majority of which were about her feelings for Arnold.

She waited and listened for a moment, making sure everyone in the house was asleep so she would not be overheard. When she was sure no one would hear, she buried her head in her hands and began to sob quietly. It was the first time she could ever remember crying so hard. She continued to cry, quietly and alone, until her eye sockets felt completely dry. She lied down, under the sculpture of Arnold, and drifted into unconsciousness.

The image of Miles and Stella leaving an infant Arnold for the last time, never to return, haunted her dreams that night.

* * *

"For the last time, kid, I can't let you on the bus," said the worker to Arnold, standing in front of the bus. 

"Please, sir, it's important," pleaded Arnold. "I think something very important of mine is on the bus."

The bus depot worker stared at Arnold for a few minutes or so. Reluctantly, he took the keys from his pocket and unlocked the bus.

"You've got two minutes," said worker. "And don't tell anyone I let you do this."

Arnold scurried onto the bus. He immediately went to the seat he had sat on earlier that day. He searched the seat and under it, but couldn't find anything. Desperately, he looked under the surrounding seats. He even looked on the seats he hadn't been anywhere near that afternoon, but he could find anything. Arnold suddenly felt hot tears reach his eyes, but he closed his eyes and try to choke his sobs back. Doing his best to restrain his emotions, he exited the bus without saying anything to the worker. Silently, the worker locked the bus back up and left for home.

Arnold walked home, but he barely remembered anything about the walk. The entire experience felt like a bad dream that he couldn't escape. He hoped against hope that, somehow, he would wake up and everything had just been a nightmare. He'd wake up and find out he hadn't lost the journal, his parents weren't missing, and he wasn't a failure.

But he knew that wasn't going to happen. He felt like he had failed on a massive level. He had lost one of his most prized possessions, he had destroyed any hope of ever getting a plane to find his parents, and he had nobody to blame but himself. Arnold had always tried to remain optimistic and look on the bright side, but there was no bright side to this. He could not think of anything to do to fix this situation.

_How useless must I be_, thought Arnold, _when all I can do now is sit at home and feel bad about myself?_

As these thoughts swam through his head, he walked home in his lucid state, entered the boarding house, and went up to his room.

He pulled the blankets over his head, trying not to cry as he drifted to sleep.

* * *

Helga woke up as the sun rose the following morning. She was momentarily confused to find herself in the closet before her waking memory began to function. She rose to her feet, exited the closet, and looked at the journal on her desk. She gripped it gently in her hands. 

"Now, I must return this to you, my love," said Helga to herself. "I only pray that you're alright."

She quickly gathered her books and prepared for the bus to arrive.

* * *

Arnold waited on the bench at the bus stop in front of the boarding house. Sitting next to him was a man with a newspaper in front of him. He has gotten up early and avoided having breakfast that morning. He wished to avoid contact with his grandparents, since he didn't want to make them worry about his sour mood. He felt like a zombie; an empty shell who simply existed out of habit. That's all Arnold was doing, after all; just going through the motions for the sake of it. 

He looked down the street and saw the bus coming a few blocks away. On a whim, he suddenly stood up, gathered his books, and walked down the sidewalk. He did not feel like going to school, pretending like nothing had happened, surrounded by people who were totally oblivious of his feelings. He just didn't care anymore. He walked down the street as the bus pulled up to the stop.

The man on the bench put his newspaper down. He wore sunglasses and a brown coat. He watched Arnold walk down the sidewalk with a blank expression. He waited for the bus to leave before he placed his newspaper on the bench and followed after the boy.


	3. Chapter Three: The Pier

Chapter Three: The Pier

* * *

Author's Note: Keep in mind this fanfic takes place after the movie, so Arnold is already aware of Helga's feelings.

* * *

Helga sat on the bench outside her house at the bus stop, waiting for the bus. She was at the stop earlier than usual and no one else had shown up yet. The old journal sat in her lap; she rested both hands on it, as if she were afraid if her hands left it, the relic would become lost. She found herself becoming nervous. She had no idea how Arnold would react when she returned the journal. Would he be thrilled to have it back or would he be revolted that she had read it? Helga was not sure.

Helga was so lost in thought that she did not realize Phoebe had arrived until she spoke.

"Helga."

Helga almost jumped, before realizing it was Phoebe, sitting down next to her.

"Oh, hey Feebs," said Helga, trying to act natural.

"Are you feeling alright, Helga?" said Phoebe, adjusting her glasses. "You've been acting rather...peculiar recently."

"So, what's your point?" said Helga, defensively. However, when Helga saw Phoebe's expression become a bit sadder, Helga added, "Really, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. Helga could tell Phoebe did not believe her for a second. Helga sometimes felt as if Phoebe could detect every time she lied; nobody understood Helga's mind and personality quite like Phoebe did, making it difficult for Helga to hide much from her for very long.

Helga said nothing for a while, until she remembered something she meant to ask Phoebe.

"Hey, Phoebe?"

"Yes, Helga?"

"Do you ever heard about some guys called the Green-Eyed People?"

Phoebe sat back, thinking for a minute.

"Green-Eyed People…hmm…" she said, trying to remember. "Oh yes! They're an ancient civilization in Central America, mostly located in San Lorenzo. A very reclusive culture. Many anthropologists believe their civilization disintegrated around the same time as the Mayans, although there have been several legends about some still living in San Lorenzo."

Helga smiled. She should have known she could have counted on Phoebe, who was practically a walking encyclopedia, to have some information.

"Uh huh," said Helga. "Know anything else about them?"

"Um…not really. Most people don't know much about them. Like I said, they were very reclusive." Phoebe sat up and looked over at Helga. "Why do you ask?"

"What?" Helga stammered a bit. "Oh, no reason. I just…heard about them somewhere and was wondering. You know…just making conversation."

Phoebe gave Helga a suspicious look for a second then smiled.

"Alright. Whatever you say, Helga."

Helga remained silent. The journal still remained in her lap. Occasionally, she saw Phoebe glancing at the journal; however, if Phoebe held any interest or suspicions about the book, she did not vocalize them.

Helga sat as several other people arrived at the bus stop. The first to arrive, dress in a new red dress, was Rhonda Lloyd. She walked over to the bench, which was occupied almost filled to capacity with just Phoebe and Helga sitting there. Helga only vaguely noticed she was there. She stood over the bench for a few moments, until she finally said something.

"Um, _excuse_ me," said Rhonda, in her snobbish tone.

"Eh?" said Helga, looking up. "What do you want, Lloyd?"

"Do you think you could move over? It's rather hard to sit down with your butt taking up the whole bench."

Helga wouldn't have had much a problem moving, but her nervousness over what Arnold's reaction would be put her in no mood to put up with Rhonda's snobby attitude. Helga purposely adjusted her seating to take up more space on the bench. Rhonda stared at Helga coldly for a moment before sticking her nose in the air and standing on the sidewalk a reasonable distance away from Phoebe and Helga.

A few other people arrive. Eugene walked up to the stop from across the street, after almost being hit by a station wagon. Cid and Stinky followed suit. Helga barely noticed anyone arrive until she heard a voice speak to her.

"Excuse me, Helga?"

Helga looked up and, to her dismay, saw the red-haired form of Lila standing over her, smiling.

"Yeah?" said Helga, shortly.

"Would you be oh so kind as to let me sit down next to you on the bench? I fear my leg is cramping ever so much."

Helga sighed. Despite the fact that Lila's optimism make Helga's skin crawl, she still wasn't quite as annoying as someone like Rhonda. Besides, the bus would show up soon anyway. Compared to the emotional problems she'd face in a matter of minutes, dealing with Lila was nothing.

"Ugh…fine. Do whatever," said Helga, moving over slightly. Lila smiled and sat next to her. Helga's mood was perked up for a brief moment when she saw a very annoyed expression form on Rhonda's face as soon as Lila sat down.

Finally, the bus pulled up to the sidewalk. The doors opened and everyone boarded. Helga's heart was in her throat. She clutched the journal to her chest. Fighting the sudden urge to chicken out and run home, Helga stepped on the bus shortly after Phoebe.

Once she was on the bus, Helga immediately noticed something was wrong. She looked all through the bus, but she couldn't see Arnold anywhere. Helga knew that the bus always passed Arnold's boarding house first. If he wasn't on the bus, than where was he?

Thinking quickly, Helga sought out the person who was most likely to know Arnold's whereabouts. She walked over to Gerald, who was sitting in the seat talking to Phoebe, who stood in the aisle. As Helga approached, Phoebe blushed and sat down quickly nearby.

"Hey, Tall Hair Boy," said Helga to Gerald. "Where's Arnoldo today?"

Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"Since when do you care?"

Helga glared at Gerald. Gerald looked over at Phoebe, who gave him a pleading look. Gerald sighed.

"To be honest, I don't know," said Gerald. "He wasn't here by the time I got on." Gerald paused for a second. "I'm starting to think something might be going on with him."

"What do you mean?" said Helga, trying to hide her concern.

"I dunno…I mean, all yesterday he was pretty out of it. It had me pretty worried…and now he's not here today. It's weird."

Helga suddenly became worried.

_Oh God, _she thought, _what if he was so upset, he didn't even bother to get out of bed? Oh, my love, what have I done? By giving into temptation and taking the journal, have I only succeeded in opening more wounds in your heart?_

Oblivious to Helga's concern, Gerald glared at Helga.

"So, if he does show up, maybe you could show some humanity and leave the man alone."

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Helga shouted at Gerald, holding the journal to her chest.

"Shut up! Just what do you think I am?! Criminy, you really don't know anything, do you?!"

Even Gerald was taken aback by Helga's sudden outburst. Helga regained her senses and began walking off the bus.

"Forget this," said Helga quietly. "I've got business to take care of."

Helga exited the bus. As she exited, she could faintly hear Rhonda say out load, "What a psycho…"

Helga walked on the sidewalk, extremely angry. She was angry at Gerald for thinking she had no consideration for Arnold's feelings, even after all these years. She was angry at Rhonda for being a stuck-up annoyance. She was angry at everyone on the bus for judging her as some kind of psycho. But mostly, she was angry at herself. All she wanted to do was give the journal to Arnold and make him feel at ease. But now she found out he was so upset about losing the journal that he didn't even show up to school. Helga felt like an idiot; she should have expected this to happen, especially considering his mood yesterday.

She walked down the sidewalk, not entirely sure where she was going. She needed to find Arnold, but she wasn't sure where he'd be. The boarding house seemed like the logical choice, so she went that way. She walked for a few minutes before the boarding house came into view. As she walked towards the boarding house to go inside, she bumped into a man who was standing still in the sidewalk for no reason. Still angry at herself and everyone around her, she turned towards the man.

"Hey, watch where you're go-" Helga suddenly stopped as she looked upon the man. The man wore sunglasses and a brown coat. He was a young man with tanned skin and short black hair. He had a blank expression on his face. Helga recognized the man almost at once.

"You! You're the guy from yesterday!"

The man didn't say anything. Helga's anger spiked. This man had been the cause, albeit indirectly, of all her problems with the journal. Not only that, but he had seemed very creepy yesterday, especially when he somehow knew Helga's last name. It was time for Helga to get some answers.

"You knew my name yesterday? How did you know that?"

The man still remained silent. Helga gripped his arm threateningly.

"Don't play dumb! Answer me!"

The man remained silent for another moment, then spoke.

"If you're looking for your friend, he's over at the pier."

Helga's eyes suddenly widened. This information had taken Helga completely by surprise.

"Ho…how do you know where Arnold is?" said Helga, shocked.

"I was watching him. I needed to make sure he didn't do anything harmful to himself while he was still vulnerable."

"Why were you watching Arnold?!" said Helga.

"That's not important," said the man. He turned to leave. "You know where he is now. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'd be much help right now. But don't worry...I think that soon you'll know what to do."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

The man did not give any indication he heard Helga. He began walking away. Still seeking answers, Helga yelled after him.

"Wait! Why were you watching Arnold?"

The man kept walking away.

"Answer me! Who are you?"

The man turned a corner down the street. Helga ran after him, but when she looked around the corner, the man had already disappeared. Helga was confused and disturbed by this weird man's habit of showing up, knowing far more than he should.

However, Helga realized she had more important matters to take care of. She clutched the journal and began to walk to the pier.

* * *

Arnold sat on the pier, staring out into the river. The polluted river frequently populated by boats carrying cargo did not provide the best view in the world, but Arnold still thought it was a good place to sit and think. He had first become attached to this place during thanksgiving five years ago, when he and Helga had both ended up there, after both left their families after finding thanksgiving with them unbearable. Although they both eventually returned and realized they were wrong in leaving, Arnold still thought the pier was a place to get away from the pressures of the world, to think in peace.

Yet Arnold could find no peace. No matter how far away he went from the world, his problems followed him. He knew he should go to school and try to take his mind off things, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. This problem wouldn't simply go away. This personal failure weighed upon Arnold heavier than any problem he had ever faced.

Arnold picked up a pebble and tried to throw it across the water. Instead of skipping across, the pebble simply sank to the bottom of the river. Arnold sigh. As he did, he heard the sound of the boards creaking behind him. He heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Hey."

Arnold did not even turn to face her.

"Just leave me alone, Helga. I'm not in the mood."

"Hey, don't snap at me, Fo-" Helga suddenly stopped, as if she caught herself before she said something she didn't mean. "Umm…sorry."

Arnold's eyes still remained on the water.

"You know what?" said Arnold. "I don't even care. Call me Football Head. Shove me. Knock me in the river. Do whatever. It doesn't matter. I deserve it."

"Heh, well, I appreciate the invitation," said Helga, forcing a laugh. Suddenly, her voice became serious again. "So…why do you think you deserve that?"

Arnold sighed.

"You wouldn't understand, Helga."

Helga sat down on the pier next to Arnold, allowing her legs to hang over the water. Surprisingly, she sounded nervous.

"A…actually, I think I would."

For the first time, Arnold looked up at Helga. Helga's eyes were fixed down on the water, as if she was ashamed to look Arnold in the eye. Suddenly, Arnold noticed the book in Helga's lap. Arnold stared at the book for a few seconds, making sure it wasn't a mirage or hallucination.

"You…you found the journal?" said Arnold.

Helga did not say anything. She only glanced over at Arnold briefly before bringing her eyes back down to the water. He hesitantly took the journal from Helga and looked at it, to make sure it was his journal. Suddenly, Arnold found himself overcome with happiness.

"You found the journal!" said Arnold. Arnold found himself laughing. He was so happy; he thought he had lost the journal forever. Without thinking, he leaned over and hugged Helga. The gesture was brief, as Arnold's brain caught up with his actions several seconds later. Arnold recoiled, looking at Helga whose face was red with embarrassment. Helga looked as if she was trying to look angry, but failing miserably at it. Helga stammered, trying to say something, but was unable to coherently form a sentence.

After a moment, the euphoria of finding the journal wore of in Arnold's mind as a thought rang through his head. He looked down at the journal and then looked over at Helga.

"So…" said Arnold, suddenly sad again, "I guess…you read this, right?"

Helga stopped stammering. She looked down at the water again, watching the tiny waves splash against the supports of the pier.

"Yeah," said Helga. Helga opened her mouth to say something else, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

Arnold and Helga sat in silence for almost an entire minute before Arnold said something.

"You know…I never even showed that to Gerald," said Arnold, sadly. "Nobody else saw it except Grandma and Grandpa."

Helga looked more nervous that Arnold had ever seen her before. She was obviously trying hard not to show it, but Arnold could still tell. Arnold looked down at the journal, the most important thing he had left of his parents. He had hoped he could have given the journal back to his father one day, but now, because of his own incompetence, that could never be. As these thoughts ran through Arnold's head, he was horrified to see that his eyes were beginning to tear up. He covered his face with his hand.

Helga became mortified, believing this reaction to be her fault.

"Arnold?" she said. "Arnold, are you alright? Are you- oh God. Listen, I'm sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I read it, just don't- oh God. I-"

"No no, it's not that," said Arnold, trying to choke his tears back. "It's just…" Arnold stood up and looked to the right of the pier, hiding his face from Helga. Arnold wished he could simply run home right now, but he found he couldn't. Arnold had tried to suppress his emotions and now everything was rushing out at once. "I couldn't do anything for them…"

"Anything for who?" asked Helga.

"My…my parents," said Arnold, wiping the tears from his eyes. "They left and never came back. You know…when I was a kid I…this is pathetic…I always kinda believed one day, they'd just show up at the boarding house…and I could see them again. But it never happened. So…I started to think they never would. But then I found this." He held up the journal. "And it was the most amazing thing I'd ever read. I was reading it until I reached the end…and there was this map."

"A map?"

"Yeah…it was of San Lorenzo. It showed the flight path my parents were going to take and everything. And I was so happy. I thought I could find them. I thought I could finally find out what happened to them…" Arnold looked down. "But it wasn't that simple. The police didn't help. Normal planes don't fly to San Lorenzo…so I tried to find a private plane." Arnold let out a mix between a laugh and a sob. "I made up a list of every place I could find that charters private planes. And almost every day after school, for the past few years, I would call a place and try to get one. And guess what?"

Helga didn't reply. She simply sat in mix of awe, sadness, and horror that Arnold was actually confiding in her.

"Well, yesterday, I got to the end of the list," said Arnold. "And I've got nothing to show for it. No plane. Nothing." Arnold's tear were mostly gone, but the space around his eyes was still red from the crying. "I can't believe what I was thinking would happen. I've got no money for a plane anyway, but I just hoped that something would happen. That at some point I would just know what to do. But it never came." Arnold was furious at himself. "I am such an idiot."

Helga was filled with many conflicting emotions. However, upon hearing Arnold's call himself an idiot, Helga instinctively stood up and looked at him.

"What are you talking about?" said Helga, in a bizarre manner that was both angry and sincere. "How can you even call yourself that?!"

"Because it's true, Helga," said Arnold, still angry at himself. "I've always tried to look on the bright side. I've always, always trusted that everything would work out the way it's supposed to if you just believed it could. And the one time…the only time I've ever really needed something to work, it didn't. I couldn't get a plane, and now I'll never find out what happened to my parents!"

"That's not true," said Helga, without thinking. "There's a way! You can find a way!"

"No, Helga," said Arnold, looking down. "I can't."

Now, Helga became upset and angry at the same time. Arnold was almost certain he saw moisture enter her eyes.

"So, you're just gonna give up?! Just like that?!" she said. "Are you just gonna sit here hating yourself?"

"What else can I do?" said Arnold, glaring at her for snapping at him. "Would you rather I hate you?"

"Yes! Yes, because that would make sense!" Helga recoiled, surprised by the words that came out of her own mouth. Arnold looked up at her, his angry expression now changed to a look of confusion. Helga, finely calming down, tried to articulate her thoughts.

"Look," she said calmly, "I'm…I'm sorry. But you shouldn't hate yourself. You're not an idiot or useless or anything like that. You're…" Helga stopped, unable to think of the right word.

Arnold stared at Helga. He had known exactly how she had felt about him since they were nine and she confessed to him when the neighborhood was nearly destroyed. Afterwards, they simply convinced each other that the confession wasn't true and was just in the heat of the moment, even though they both knew it simply denial. They had never mentioned the incident since, but deep down they both knew the truth. Arnold had never given much thought to how he felt about Helga, mostly due to the fact that even though she has a good side, she tortures him most of the time. Arnold always likes seeing Helga's nice side, but this was the first time he had felt truly touched by something Helga had said. He knew he should feel happy to know somebody cared about him, but he knew he didn't deserve to be happy; not after what he had failed to do.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Helga," said Arnold. "Really, I do. But…but there's nothing you can do. I failed…and it hurts. It hurts worse than anything I've ever felt." Arnold turned away. "I…I think I just need to be alone for a while." Arnold began to walk off the pier.

He took a few steps before he heard Helga call after him.

"Arnold?" she said.

"What?"

"Why did you tell me all that stuff just now?"

Arnold turned towards her and thought for a moment.

"I…don't know," said Arnold. "I guess…you're the only one I could talk to who would understand." Arnold held the journal. Helga was the only other person who had ever read the journal, so she was the only person who could understand how painful it would be to lose the wonderful parents who were written about in the journal. "Bye, Helga."

Arnold walked off the pier, towards the boarding house. Helga remained on the pier, watching him as he left. She lingered for several minutes, contemplating everything that had been said, before walking off herself. She became certain of what she had to do.

* * *

Helga snuck back in her house, which was easy considering Big Bob was at work, Olga was out volunteering at the soup kitchen, and Miriam was still passed out on the couch. Besides, even if they were home, Helga had the feeling they wouldn't notice her prescience anyway. Helga walked into her room and quickly searched for a piece of paper.

Arnold's behavior weighed heavily on Helga's mind. It was horrible for Helga to see Arnold lose hope like he had back at the pier. She couldn't sit down and do nothing while her love's heart seemed shattered.

Helga remembered what that man, that Stranger, had said to her earlier. _I have confidence that, very soon, you'll know what you are supposed to do. _Whoever this Stranger was, he had been right.

Helga found a piece of paper and sat at her desk. She got her purple pen from nearby and wrote on the paper. She needed to write down some ideas.

All Helga had to do was find a way to obtain an extremely large amount of money, find a place that charters planes, and get the plane for Arnold, all in a preferably short amount of time. It was the only thing she could do. It was the only thing that would make Arnold feel better.

_How hard could it be? _thought Helga.


	4. Chapter Four: Old Friends

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Four: Old Friends

* * *

Helga stared at the blank piece of paper in front of her, frustrated. Helga had spend the past several hours trying to think of some way to raise money for Arnold, but she hadn't been able to come up with anything. Almost every idea she had she ended up shooting down immediately for being stupid or outlandish. The few practical ideas she got to raise money, like simply going around the neighborhood asking for a donation, would take far too long to be of any use; Helga was afraid that if she did not get the money for the plan in a timely manner, Arnold may become so depressed and damaged that his optimistic, caring nature would never completely return. Helga tried not to think about it since it broke he focus, but her mind always seemed to drift back to the fear that Arnold wouldn't recover, that he would become so traumatized that he'd never regain the qualities of himself that Helga had grown to love and admire. 

To Helga's horror, she began to visualize Arnold, sitting with his head down in class every day, depressed. No longer giving advice, no longer helping his friends when they were in need, no longer having his optimism attitude, no longer caring about anything. He just sat there, only taking up space, constantly reminded of the one time he couldn't fix everything…

Horrified, Helga snapped out of the depressing daydream.

_I can't let that happen, _thought Helga. _I won't! _Helga stared back down at the page, tapping her purple pen on the table. _But this is going nowhere! School is probably already out by now and I've got nothing!_

Helga tried to think, but it was no use. Although Helga was creative and determined when it came to helping Arnold, Helga simply didn't think she was up to this. Even though Helga had done amazing things in the past, such as helping Arnold find Mr. Hyunh's long-lost daughter and contributing heavily to Arnold's effort to save the neighborhood from FutureTech Industries (which climaxed with her spontaneous confession of her feelings to Arnold), Helga thought she simply was not smart enough to find a way to raise money so fast.

_Not smart enough…_

Suddenly, Helga had an idea. Helga quickly looked over at the clock, to confirm her earlier assumption that school was already over. Helga smiled. _She _might not have been smart enough to think of a practical idea alone, but she know someone who could help.

Helga quickly ran down stairs (slowing her stride down slightly to avoid waking a sleeping Miriam on the couch) and grabbed the phone to make the call.

* * *

Arnold sat at the library, staring out the window. After he had left Helga, Arnold had been unsure where to go. He knew that he could not have gone home, since his grandparents would be there and would ask questions about Arnold's mood that he would not answer. After all, Arnold had one emotion explosion today and he did not want another. 

For a while, Arnold simply walked around town on the sidewalk, unsure of any destination. He walked for about half an hour before he found himself in front of the library. Knowing that he would be virtually alone in the place, he entered. Without even looking for a book, he sat down at a table near the window, where he had remained for the past few hours. Occassionally, he would look inside his bookbag to make sure the journal was still in it, since Arnold was not about to lose it once again.

Arnold thought he had wanted to be alone to think, but he was unsure why. Every time he stopped to think, he could only think about his failure. At least when he was talking with Helga, he was releasing some of his emotion rather than holding it all in to eat away at him. Why would he walk away from Helga, knowing it would just make himself more miserable?

_Because I deserve to be miserable_, he thought.

He recalled what Helga had said to him several hours ago.

"_But you shouldn't hate yourself. You're not an idiot or useless or anything like that. You're…"_

Arnold almost smiled. Helga was a peculiar person. Arnold knew that, if Helga was so inclined, she could make Arnold feel lower than dirt. She could have chewed him out for whining, made a sarcastic comment, and left. But she didn't. Instead, she showed the sensitive side of her personality that seemed to show up whenever Arnold really needed it to. She had actually truthfully said that he wasn't an idiot, a statement which contradicted just about every insult she had ever used on him.

_She said I wasn't an idiot, _thought Arnold, staring back down at the table. _And she's right. I've always known that. I'm not useless or anything…so why do I keep saying I am? Why do I keep _feeling _like I am? I mean…I feel terrible that I failed…but I did my best._

_But, for the first time, my best wasn't good enough. It wasn't even close. And, besides the time I saved the neighborhood, it was the only time I ever really _needed_ my best to be good enough._

Arnold sighed. He suddenly became angry with himself.

_What is wrong with me? I should be trying to think of another way to get to San Lorenzo. I should be out doing something…but instead, I'm just sitting here, doing nothing. Just whining. I really am pathetic and… _Arnold suddenly became even angrier with himself. _Ugh, I'm just going around in circles! Every time I try to sit and think, I just end up feeling worse. I've…I've got to get out of here. _

Unsure exactly what action he was going to take, Arnold stood up, grabbed his bookbag, and walked out the library. He briefly glance at the clock, noticing that school was out. Arnold exited the library, only to accidentally bump into someone on the street. He almost tripped into the street. He turned to look and help whoever he had knocked over up.

"I'm sorry. Really, I wasn't looking where I was going. I should hav-" Arnold looked down and was surprised at who he had knocked down. "Phoebe?"

Phoebe was on the ground, picking up her glasses and pieces of paper that she had dropped. Arnold leaned over and helped her up.

"Arnold?" said Phoebe, after putting her glasses back on.

"I'm really, really sorry, Phoebe."

"Oh, don't be," said Phoebe, picking up the last few pieces of paper she dropped. "I was in a rush anyway. It was my fault really."

"Why were you in a rush?"

"Well, Helga called and-" Phoebe suddenly stopped, realizing something. "Arnold, what are you doing out anyway? You weren't at school today. Gerald seemed pretty worried about it."

"Umm…" said Arnold, not knowing what to say. He could not tell Phoebe the truth; an emotional outburst would only succeed in making Phoebe extremely uncomfortable. However, Arnold also knew he was a terrible liar. Thinking quickly, he said, vaguely, "I…just wasn't feeling very well this morning."

"Oh, I see," said Phoebe, suspiciously. "Well, Gerald was going over the boarding house to check on you. I thought I should let you know."

"Oh," said Arnold, unsure whether talking to Gerald would improve his mood or make him feel worse. "Thank you."

"Your welcome…umm…" Phoebe thought for a minute then, to Arnold's surprise, asked, "You didn't happen to see Helga today, did you?"

"Why do you ask?" said Arnold, shocked by the question.

"Well, she just seemed very upset this morning and, on the phone, she…" Phoebe paused for a minute before looking away from Arnold. "Um…nevermind. I shouldn't have asked. I have to go!"

Before Arnold could reply, Phoebe ran down the street fast, clutching the papers she was ran. Phoebe's questions confused Arnold, but he turned his attention to the subject of Gerald.

_Maybe I should talk to him, _thought Arnold. _But what can I tell him? I can't just tell him everything all at once. I mean, sure, he's my best friend, but I can't just blurt everything at him like I did Helga._

Arnold stopped for a minute.

_Wait…_why_ can't I blurt everything at him like I did Helga? I've known Helga and Gerald just as long, and Gerald is my best friend. But Helga is…different. She just seems to understand a lot about me that even Gerald doesn't and…_

Arnold shook his head quickly, realizing his thoughts were going off track.

_Ugh, I've gotta focus. I've gotta figure out something to say to him._

Arnold quickly walked home. In front of the stoop of the boarding house, he saw his tall-haired friend sitting, waiting for him. As he approached, Gerald stood up.

"Hey Gerald," said Arnold, emotionlessly.

"Hey man. You feelin' alright?"

Arnold, still unsure of whether to tell the truth to his friend or not, simply gave a slight shrug. Gerald raised his eyebrow at Arnold.

"You feel like taking a walk?" asked Gerald.

"Um…I guess…" said Arnold. He and Gerald began to walk down the street. Arnold became anxious, still clueless about what he was going to say.

* * *

Helga sat in the kitchen, impatiently looking back at the clock every ten seconds. 

_Crimeny, when is Phoebe gonna get here? _thought Helga. _I told her to hurry as soon as possible because it was an emergency…so why is it taking her so long?!_

Helga suddenly realized her hand on the table was shaking. Helga looked down at it, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, calm down, Helga," said Helga to herself. "Freaking out about every little thing isn't going to solve anything…" Helga tried to simply be patient, but she always found her eyes wandering back to the clock.

After waiting for what seemed like forever (when, in actuality, it was about ten minutes), Helga heard the front door creak open. Quickly, Helga got out of her chair and ran to the door, expecting to see Phoebe.

"Good afternoon, Baby Sister!"

Helga was immediately dejected as she saw Olga enter through the door, rather than her friend. Helga sighed, knowing she had far more important things to do than deal with her older sister. Olga was carrying several paper bags filled with groceries. She quickly walked into the kitchen.

"I got back from the soup kitchen and I thought I would get ingredients for dinner tomorrow. I'm making a goulash. You're just gonna love it, Baby Sister."

"Heh, yeah Olga. I'm _certain _I'll just _love _it," said Helga. The sarcasm in her voice seemed to go unnoticed by Olga. Helga quickly glanced over at the front door, then looking back at the clock, growing more impatient with Phoebe. Olga sat the groceries on the table and walked back over to Helga, smiling.

"Oh, speaking of dinner, have you reconsidered my offer for tonight's dinner?"

"Huh?"

"Remember, Baby Sister. I asked if you wanted to go out with me and Little Sis. She'll probably be over pretty soon."

Helga remembered Olga saying something about dinner with her and Lila, but it had fallen completely off her radar amidst the issues with Arnold. Not that it mattered either way; even if Helga wasn't busy, she still wouldn't have gone, since she considered an evening with Olga and Lila to be more painful than removing her own wisdom teeth.

"Yeah, sorry Olga, but I'm busy. My friend is coming over in a few minutes so…"

Olga frowned, disappointed.

"Well, you have fun with your little friend. But if you still want to come, I'm sure Lila wouldn't mind waiting a bit."

Helga looked up at her sister. Helga sighed. She realized that simply saying "no" to Olga doesn't work. Instead, Helga tried to think of some statement that would get Olga off her back temporarily.

"I'll…I'll see," said Helga. Olga smiled, obviously satisfied, as a knocking came upon the door. "Gotta go!"

Helga slipped away to the front door. She opened it to see Phoebe, carrying a stack of papers.

"Hi Helga, how are yo-"

"No time, Feebs! Come on!"

Helga quickly grabbed Phoebe by the arm and ran upstairs. Phoebe ran along, trying to keep up the pace, almost tripping up the stairs several times. In a few seconds, they entered Helga's room. Helga sat at her desk and looked over at Phoebe, who looked as if she had the wind knocked out of her.

"What's the emergency, Helga?" said Phoebe, after she had caught her breath. She clutched the papers she carried to her chest.

Helga opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it. Unfortunately, Helga had not thought of exactly _what_ to tell Phoebe until that moment. She needed her friends help, but she was not sure if she should could just tell Phoebe everything she had learned about Arnold. Even though Helga acted like she lacked ethical standards most of the time, she still did not feel completely right about telling Phoebe about Arnold's most personal secrets. It just did not feel right. However, she did not expect Phoebe to help her devise a way to get an abundance of money quickly without telling her why she needed the money. Helga rubbed the back of her neck, nervously trying to think of what to say.

"It's…it's complicated," said Helga. Quickly, Helga thought of a way to stall. "Hey…what are those papers you got there, Feebs?"

"Oh, these," said Phoebe, taking her focus off Helga for a moment. "Well, you seemed so inquisitive the Green-Eyed People this morning that I did some research in my spare time this morning. All I really found that I didn't already know about was this old creation myth though. I thought you might be interested…" Phoebe looked up at Helga once more, judging the nervous expression on her face. Phoebe put the printed myth to the side on Helga's desk, then walked over and sat down on Helga's bed. "Helga?"

"Yeah, Phoebe?"

"This emergency…" Phoebe paused, as if trying to figure out the right words to say. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Arnold, would it?"

Helga's eyes widened, but she quickly tried to cover it up with a scowl, hoping Phoebe did not notice her initial reaction.

"What? What makes you think this would have anything to do with Arnoldo?"

Phoebe adjusted her glasses and looked down at the floor. She sounded very nervous as well, as if she was unsure whether she should answer Helga's question or not.

"Well Helga…if I didn't know better, I'd say something must have occurred between you two. Both you and Arnold seemed to have behaved in uncharacteristically peculiar manners the past few days. You snapped at poor Gerald this morning for suggesting you were going to torment Arnold, at which point you stormed off. Neither you or Arnold showed up for school today and neither of you seems to want to explain why. It seems very probable to think that both of your odd behaviors are somehow connected." Phoebe paused for a moment. "If I didn't know better, of course."

It took all of Helga's strength not to allow her jaw to hang open. Helga had anticipated her friend would be a tad suspicious of her behavior this morning, but she had no idea Phoebe would be able to put this much together so quickly. Helga looked at her friend, who simply stared at her. Helga got up from her desk and walked over to the window. There was nothing to be gained by denying Phoebe's alarmingly accurate observations. Simply denying everything would get her nowhere. Helga began to realize that she would have to reveal at least a bit of the information about Arnold.

"Okay…" said Helga, taking a deep breath. "Let's say if this is about Arnold…hypothetically…you do understand that you can't tell ANYONE anything I mention about it, right?"

"Of course, Helga," said Phoebe. "I understand how you feel about Ar-" Phoebe stopped, realizing completing the sentence could only cause Helga to become more self-conscious and nervous. "I mean…yes, of course, Helga. I understand."

"Ok, good…and you promise that you will not think I'm crazy or anything when I tell you what I need you to help me do, right?"

"I promise, Helga. What is it that you need me to do?"

Helga took a deep breath and looked her friend in the eye. After she took her breath, she began to speak at a very rapid pace.

"I need you to help me find a way to get thousands of dollars, preferably in the next few days, to charter a plane to go to San Lorenzo for Arnold, so he can look for his parents, before he completely loses hope and never recovers from a crippling depression that he's in because he blames himself for being able to do this himself."

Helga exhaled. Phoebe simply stared at Helga for a moment, unblinking.

"And you cannot let anyone know about anything I just told you ever!" added Helga.

"I know, Helga…" Phoebe looked down for a moment. "I'm sorry, but did you say '_thousands_ of dollars?'"

"Yeah."

"In just a few days?"

"Preferably, yes."

"Um…Helga?" Phoebe looked down, not wanting to look her friend in the eye. "I admire your spirit…but…I'm sorry, but raising that amount of money so quickly doesn't seem very…realistic."

Helga knew this, but she still did not like hearing it. She glared at her friend.

"No one ever accomplished anything great by thinking 'realistically,' Phoebe."

"But Helga…it's not going to be that simple. It's going to-"

Helga looked down at her friend.

"I know, okay! Crimeny, do you think I'm an idiot?! I know it's going to be almost impossible. I know I probably sound crazy for trying to do this, but I have to do this! I have to find some way…some possible way to do this!" Helga suddenly looked down, not looking Phoebe in the eye. "But…I can't figure it alone. I need…help."

Phoebe stared at her friend. It was very rare for Helga to actually come right out and admit she needed help with anything. Phoebe actually felt touched that Helga trusted her enough to ask for it.

"I…I think I understand, Helga…"

"Good," said Helga, sitting down after her sudden outburst. "Now, here's what I need to do. Somehow, we need to come up with a way to do this. Every idea I've had is too stupid to work, so I need you to help me think of ideas that are more…umm…" Helga searched for the right word. "Practical. Can you do that for me, Phoebe?"

Phoebe did not say anything for a moment.

"Can you do that for me?" repeated Helga.

"I…I'll try," said Phoebe, finally.

"Good…now, let's sit down and try to think." Helga got her pen and genially tossed a notebook and pen towards her friend. "If you think of anything good, we should write it down or something."

"Okay. Thinking."

Helga sat down in her chair, smiling at her friend. It was nice that Helga was able to count on her best friend to help her with this farfetched mission. So, now with a bit more hope than before, Helga began to think of a way to aid her beloved.

* * *

After a short, wordless walk, Arnold and Gerald had arrived at the vacant lot they used as a baseball field (known amongst their friends as "Gerald Field"). Arnold simply followed Gerald as he walked to the center of the field, still conflicted about what to tell Gerald when the subject of his current mood came up. Gerald stopped once they were at the center. He looked over at his friend, with a forced smile on his face. 

"Sorry for the walk, man," said Gerald. "I just thought you might like to talk in a place were we wouldn't be bothered."

"We…could have just talked in my room," said Arnold.

"Well, you looked like you could have used some fresh air too. No offense but…you've looked better, man."

Arnold looked down. He was certain that, considering the stress he'd faced the past couple days, his face was much paler than usual. No wonder Gerald thought he could benefit from the open air.

Gerald looked down at the ground and got a small rock. He threw it into the field. This random action puzzled Arnold, until he came to a surprising conclusion.

_He's stalling too, _thought Arnold. Although Gerald's facial expressions did not show it, Arnold became sure that Gerald was almost as nervous about this conversation as he was.

Without turning back to look at Arnold, he finally spoke.

"So, why did you play hooky today?"

The directness of the question took Arnold off-guard.

"What?" said Arnold. "No, I was…I was just feeling a bit-"

"Because you weren't at school…and when I tried to call you during school, you weren't home."

Arnold looked down at the grass.

"I…okay, I did. But it was just because I didn't feel well. It's not like I just did it just to do it."

"I know, man," said Gerald, looking back at his friend. "Trust me. I know you're not like that. But…that's sorta why I'm worried." Gerald looked his friend in the eye. "You do know if something's bothering you, you can tell me, right?"

Arnold looked up. It was obvious Gerald was honestly concerned for him. After all, Gerald was his best friend; it was foolish of Arnold to think that the signs of his depression would go completely unnoticed by him. He had made his friend worry about him, which made Arnold feel like he had just been punched in the stomach. What was worse was that Arnold realized keeping the truth from Gerald would only make him worry more; despite this, Arnold still could not bring himself to tell Gerald about his insecurities, for reasons he still could not completely put into words, no matter how hard he tried.

_What is it that makes me feel okay to tell Helga this, but not Gerald? _He thought. _I know part of it was because Helga read the journal, so she could understand why I'd be so upset. But…it just feels like there's something more…_

Arnold momentarily broke out of his trance when he realized Gerald was staring at him, still looking concerned.

"Gerald…I…" Arnold tried to think of what to say, but he could not. Arnold did not want to breakdown in front of his friend, but he also did not want to make him worry.

However, Gerald interrupted before he got a chance to continue.

"Look, I really wish you would tell me what's wrong," said Gerald, sighing, "but I'm not gonna force you to."

"I…I'm sorry Gerald," said Arnold, truthfully. "But it's…it's just something I have to deal with on my own."

Gerald raised an eyebrow at his friend for a moment, then suddenly looked serious once again.

"I said I wasn't going to force you to tell me, and I mean that…but I will ask you this…how many times have you given advice to other people?"

Arnold was confused by this question.

"What?"

"Lots of times, right? I mean, it seems like every time someone has a problem and you find out, you can't let it go. You always have to help, to make sure they feel better. Not that I'm making fun of you for doing that or anything."

"Gerald, I don't get where this is-"

Gerald took a deep breath.

"What I mean is…if you feel like you have to help everyone else with _their_ problems, why is it that you can't let anyone help with _yours_?"

Arnold was taken aback by this statement. Arnold had not realized his hypocrisy until that moment, but it suddenly seemed obvious. It was a question Arnold did not have an answer to. Why is it that he felt like he had to hide his unresolved feelings about his parents from anyone? Why is it that he had never told anyone?

_Except for Helga, _thought Arnold. _Why did I tell Helga? Was it because of her…feelings for me? Was it because I knew she would really care, even if she didn't always act like it? Why is she the ONLY one I ever told about it? I mean, I didn't have to. I could have taken my journal and left…but…I didn't. I mean, I was emotional at the time…but I could have run. I could have just walked away from Helga…but I didn't. Why didn't I?_

Arnold quickly snapped out of thought, lest he create another awkward pause with Gerald. Arnold tried to keep his confusion out of his mind, since Arnold was beginning to believe he was thinking way more about his situation with Helga than he should (although part of him realized he should be thankful that his thoughts about her had taken some of the focus off his parents).

Arnold looked at Gerald, who was still waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," said Arnold, looking down. "I really don't. And I really am sorry. It probably seems unfair but…I'm just not comfortable talking about it now."

Gerald stared at his friend for another moment, then he hesitantly put his hand on Arnold's shoulder.

"Okay man," said Gerald. "I just hope you feel better. And if there's anything I can do to help, you give me a call." Gerald paused. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright, Arnold?"

"I'm…sure…" said Arnold, lying in hopes that it would at least make his friend feel a little better.

Gerald looked at his friend oddly for a moment, as if he was going to call Arnold on his lie; however, after a moment, he gave a small smile.

"Alright man. Take care, okay?"

"I will."

Gerald walked away from the vacant lot, while Arnold lingered for a few moments. Although he was sure Gerald had not meant to, their talk had only caused Arnold to become even more confused. He was still upset with himself and now his confusion over his own actions with Helga and Gerald were also in him. He looked around the field for a minute before he started walking down the sidewalk, towards the boarding house, hoping that he would not have to face more questions from anyone else when he arrived.

* * *

Helga leaned back in her chair while Phoebe laid back on Helga's bed. Both had been trying to brainstorm, but it seemed that every idea they came up with, even Phoebe's more practical ideas, seemed to be flawed in some way. They had exchanged ideas for the past several hours, but every plan seemed to have one fatal flaw preventing it from succeeding. The last idea Phoebe had come up with was collect donations as well as have a fund raiser of some kind. 

"That would take way too long to get the money, if we even got that much anyway," said Helga, sadly. "I mean, if the school fund raiser didn't even get enough money to get books that were published after 1995, what hope do we have?"

Phoebe looked disappointed.

"I…I still think asking for donations would help a lot, Helga."

"Maybe," said Helga, "but there's still no guarantee we'll get the entire amount."

"Not to mention the fact that our cause might not inspire as much of an effort as other charities," said Phoebe, reluctantly, after realizing the flaws of her own idea.

Helga got up from her chair and began pacing slowly. She was beginning to feel frustrated and afraid at the same time. She knew she had to figure out some way to do this, but she couldn't think of any great idea. Much to her regret, she was beginning to think that Phoebe's skepticism was right.

_Oh Arnold, how could I have failed you so? _Thought Helga. _In your moment of need, when you need aid the most, I become a pathetic, useless shell. My passion, my spirit, all suddenly amount to nothing! Why must fate be so cruel? Why can't I be smart enough to think of some way to obtain the riches you need so? Or why couldn't I be blessed with riches I could simply hand you myself? Why must we suddenly become so in need of funds, while fortune is squandered on those far less deserving, like Rhon-_

Helga suddenly stopped pacing. She felt as if a light bulb had suddenly lit over her head.

"Like Rhonda…" whispered Helga to herself. She suddenly raised her voice, much to Phoebe's surprise. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?!"

"Why didn't you think of what, Helga?" said Phoebe, confused yet excited at the same time.

"Rhonda! It's so obvious," said Helga. "She's not the richest girl in the world, but her family's got a lot more money than anyone else we know. Even if we couldn't get the full amount from her, we could still get enough to put a huge dent in what we need. I mean, a few thousand dollars would probably just be a drop in the bucket for her folks!"

Phoebe's eyes began to light up as she listened to Helga's idea. However, unfortunately, Helga's momentarily happy expression began to fade as she realized a flaw in the plan.

"Crap…that won't work."

Phoebe did not understand immediately.

"What do you mean? That's the best idea you've had! And she'd definitely be willing to help Arnold. It-"

"It wouldn't work because of me," said Helga. "I'm not exactly Rhonda's favorite person. If I showed up at her front door, she probably wouldn't even tolerate me long enough for me to even ask for money. Besides…even if she did listen, she's not exactly charitable. I'm not sure if she would give money, even for Arnold."

Phoebe considered this for a moment, then shook her head.

"No, I think you're wrong," said Phoebe. "She'd want to help Arnold. Nobody can be that selfish."

Helga looked at Phoebe, not sure whether to admire her for being optimistic or pity her for being naïve.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Feebs."

Phoebe thought for a moment. Downstairs, the ringing of the doorbell could be heard.

"Well, maybe I could be the one to talk to her. That might work."

"She knows you're my best friend, so she still might not care for the idea."

The doorbell rang downstairs again.

"Well," said Phoebe, trying to figure out a solution, "maybe we could get someone Rhonda _would_ like to help us. Someone who could talk to her. Sort of like a negotiator."

The doorbell rang again.

"Yeah, and where exactly are we gonna find someone like-" The doorbell rang again, throwing Helga into a rage. "_Crimeny_, is everyone in this house deaf or something?!"

Furious, Helga swung open the door and walked down the stairs. Phoebe followed after, to make sure her friend did not physically harm whoever was unfortunate to be at the door.

Helga made it to the front door and swung it open with almost violent force. To her irritation, she saw that the person at the door was none other than Lila, holding a Tupperware container. She smiled sweetly at Helga, who simply scowled at her.

"Good afternoon, Helga," said Lila. "It's ever so pleasant to see you."

Helga, in no mood to deal with Lila right now, was about to ask why she was in her house, when she remembered what Olga had mentioned earlier.

"Okay, whatever, Olga will be out in a minute."

Lila smiled wider.

"That's ever so great. I thought I would come early to give you and her these cookies I made." She held up the container.

"Yeah, okay, listen I'm very busy right now so-" Helga suddenly looked around to see Phoebe with an unexpected expression on her face. "Phoebe, why are you smiling like that?"

Phoebe simply looked over at Helga. Helga tried to interpret it, but couldn't figure out what she was-

_"Maybe we could get someone Rhonda _would_ like to help us. Someone who could talk to her. Sort of like a negotiator."_

Helga looked down at Phoebe, then over at Lila, a girl who she used to despise because of Arnold's old feelings for her. Helga became aware of the fact that her face had a horrified expression on it.

_Oh no. Oh God no, _thought Helga, looking back at Lila. _Out of everyone…do I really have to ask _her_ to help _Arnold

All the while, Lila simply smiled, oblivious to the thoughts of the girls surrounding her.


	5. Chapter Five: Discoveries and Vigils

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Five: Discoveries and Vigils

* * *

Helga stared at Lila for another moment, with a mixture of horror and anger on her face. She still could not that Phoebe was seriously considering this. It was bad enough that she had to somehow ask Rhonda for help, but now Phoebe was proposing that she had to seek aid from _Lila_. Helga simply stood still, trying to contemplate the situation.

"Umm…Helga, are you alright?" said Lila, confused and oblivious to Helga's feelings. She held up her Tupperware container. "Are you sure you don't want a cookie? I'm oh so certain you'd feel better if you had one."

Helga did not answer her. Instead, she turned to Phoebe, who was still smiling.

"Phoebe, could I talk to you alone for a minute?"

"Umm…sure, Helga."

Helga glanced back at Lila, using all of her strength not to glare at her.

"Excuse us," said Helga, with no hint of happiness in her voice. She walked off and Helga followed. Helga restrained her anger until her and Phoebe entered the kitchen. Helga looked down at her friend, filled with contradicting feelings.

"Have you_completely_ lost your mind?" said Helga, trying to yell just soft enough so that her voice would not be able to be heard by Lila.

"About what?" said Phoebe, who briefly succumbed to intimidation and feigned ignorance.

"You expect me to ask help from Little Ms. Perfect? The only possible person on this planet more irritating than Olga? How could you even think of making me do that?"

Phoebe looked down at the floor.

"Well…I know you don't like the idea…but she could talk to Rhonda for us. After all, Rhonda would probably be more willing to listen to her than us. It would be very beneficial to us. You do realize that, right?

"Well…but…how could...I don't…" Helga was so conflicted she couldn't form a coherent sentence. Although her pride resisted the idea of asking Lila for help, she also knew she had to help Arnold whatever the cost. Helga obviously wanted to help Arnold above anything else, but she wouldn't ask Lila for help if she could possibly find a way around it. Unfortunately, Helga had not yet thought of any way yet.

Helga looked down to see Phoebe staring up at her, with a disapproving stare.

_Yeah, Phoebe, that's really making this easier for me, _thought Helga, dripping with sarcasm. _It's not like I don't realize I'm allowing myself to be crush once more under the weight of my Pataki pride. I know I have to help Arnold and I'd do anything to do that. But it is hard, Phoebe. It is hard to just turn to her and say, "Hi there. I hated you for the majority of young life because my one true love used to shower you with attention, even though you were undeserving on it. But now I have to grovel before you and beg for your help." Phoebe, how could you understand?_

Helga wanted to say all of that to Phoebe, but when she opened her mouth to say it, all that came out was "Quit staring at me!"

Phoebe looked down again, looking a bit hurt. Helga's expression softened and she tried to articulate her thoughts once again.

"Alright, I know you're right…it's just…it's not gonna be easy for me…" said Helga.

Phoebe looked up and nodded. With that, Helga walked back out to the door, where Lila still remained. Lila smiled at them as they returned.

"Lila," said Phoebe, before Helga could say anything, "could we speak to you in Helga's room for a moment?"

Lila looked at them, confused.

"Of course, although I'm ever so certain I should wait for Olga. We were going to this ever so pleasant-looking French restaurant downtown-"

"It won't take long. I promise," said Phoebe, who glanced over to look at Helga's conflicted expression.

"Oh," said Lila, smiling. "Alright then."

Phoebe led Lila up the stairs to Helga's room, while Helga was the last to move towards the stairs. All the time she was trying to think how she could bring herself to ask her former rival for help.

* * *

Arnold walked down the sidewalk, on his way back to the boarding house. After his encounter with Gerald, many thoughts were running through his head. Arnold was still trying to figure out why he felt more comfortable revealing his problems to Helga than he did Gerald or his Grandparents. When he told Helga, he was so overcome with emotion that he hadn't even comprehended his own reasoning. Although Arnold could figure out the feelings of others fairly well, he found himself difficult to figure out his own feelings when he revealed the truth to Helga. Had Arnold been in a better mood, he might have appreciated the irony.

_It doesn't make sense, _thought Arnold. _I mean, I guess it might have been just me becoming so full of emotion that I had to tell somebody. But it didn't have to be Helga. I could have just as easily taken the journal, ran home, and talked to Grandpa. But…I felt like I had to tell Helga. I don't know, maybe I felt like I owed it to her to tell the truth. After all, if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have the journal. It could have been gratitude…but it felt like more than that. For some reason, at that moment, I trusted Helga. But why do I trust her? Why do I-_

Arnold briefly broke out of his own thoughts when he saw a tall man who was running down the sidewalk accidentally trip and fall to his knees. He let out a short groan. Arnold's instinctively helpful nature kicked in.

"Are you alright?" said Arnold, offering his hand to help him up.

"Yeah, I just lost my footing," said the man, who was wearing a brown coat and dark sunglasses. "Thanks for the-" He stopped when he raised his head to see Arnold's face.

"Is something wrong?" said Arnold, confused by his abrupt stop.

The Stranger said nothing for a second, then quickly shook his head.

"Sorry, I guess just…got the wind knocked out of me."

The Stranger stood up and brushed off his coat. Arnold was confused, since the man suddenly had a slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yes," said the Stranger, quickly. "Thanks again for your help. It was very nice of you."

"Well, it's no big deal. Anyone would have done the same."

The Stranger simply stared at Arnold for a moment.

"Just like them…" he said, barely audible.

"I'm sorry, did you say something just now?"

"What?" he said, realizing he had accidentally spoken out loud. "Oh, it's nothing. Goodbye, Arnold."

The Stranger walked out. Arnold watched him walk away, then began to walk back to the boarding house. This seemingly insignificant incident quickly faded out of his memory as his thoughts turned back to Helga. Had Arnold not been preoccupied with other thoughts, he might have realized, on some level, the significance of what had just occurred.

He also might have realized that, somehow, the man knew his name without Arnold having to tell it.

* * *

Lila sat down next to Phoebe, on Helga's bed. Helga once again sat at the chair of her desk. At first, she tried to avoid looking at Lila, instead glancing around the room. Her eyes rested on the slightly ajar closet door for a moment, before her eyes inevitably drew to Lila. She stared at Lila with a look of deep thought and confliction on her face.

Helga was trying to think of a way to approach the situation. She knew it would be in her best interest to ask for Lila's help. However, it was not that simple. Even if Helga disregarded her own pride (which is much easier said than done), Helga was not sure how she could ask for Lila's help without revealing Arnold's problem. It was not especially hard for Helga to reveal the truth to Phoebe; after all, Phoebe was her best friend, so she knew she could trust her not to come to her aid. Lila, however, was different. Helga had absolutely no clue what went through that overly optimistic mind of hers or how she would react to the task she needed Lila to perform. So how could Helga possibly tell Lila if she wasn't sure if she could trust her?

_I mean, after all, _thought Helga, _it's not like I know if she can keep a secret. I mean, I haven't even talked to her or told her anything about myself, except…except for…_

Helga then remembered something that she could not believe she had forgotten. Helga knew first hand that Lila could keep a secret because Helga had, years ago, told her deepest, darkest secret. In fourth grade, in order to play Juliet in a school play to kiss Arnold, who was playing Romeo, Helga had tried to talk Lila out of taking the part. Helga was forced to tell Lila her feelings for Arnold. Oddly enough, Lila didn't seem that surprised. Since then, Lila had not mentioned the issue to Helga or to anyone else, as far as she knew.

_Okay, so I know she can keep a secret, _thought Helga. _But I still don't feel right about just telling her this. I mean, revealing something that personal about Arnold to Lila just doesn't feel right. Although, as much as I hate to admit it, that just might be my own old malice of Lila seeping in. _

_Well, at any rate, I have to say something. Anything. I mean, I haven't said anything this whole time. She probably thinks I'm a nut._

Helga looked up to Lila, who seemed to be waiting patiently. She looked over at Phoebe, who was staring at Helga, waiting for her to start.

Helga sighed.

"Alright Lila," said Helga, finally. "Phoebe and I need your help with…something."

Lila seemed confused.

"Really? Well, gosh, Helga. I'm sorta surprised. I mean, I'm oh so certain you don't usually come to me for help."

"You got a problem with me asking?" said Helga, with a hint of antagonism. This remark earned Helga a glare from Phoebe.

"Well, no, Helga," said Lila. "I mean, I'm ever so happy you would come to me. I'm just wondering why you would. I mean, you usually don't talk to me ever so much when I visit Olga."

_That's because being around you and Olga together "ever so" sickens me,_thought Helga. Helga had a strained relationship with her sister and often considered Olga a gigantic nuisance, but she still couldn't help but become jealous by how well Lila and Olga got along when they were together. In the past, whenever she tried to do anything with them, she faded into the background, while those two went on and on about, in Helga's opinion, the stupidest subjects imaginable. To Helga, it was one of the most irritating things in the world.

"Look, do you want to help me or not?" said Helga.

Lila gave a hint of a smile.

"Well, of course, Helga. What ever do you need me to do?"

Helga gave a deep breath, trying to think of how much she should reveal to Lila. Right now, she tried to tell as little as possible, trying to avoid all mention of Arnold.

"Phoebe and I need you to go talk to Rhonda. You're friends with her, right?"

"Well, yes. But what would you need me to talk to Rhonda about, Helga?"

_Tread lightly, Helga, _Helga thought to herself. _Try not to even mention Arnold if you can avoid it._

"I need you to talk to Rhonda about giving us a…" Helga tried to think of the right phrase to use. If she just said she was asking for money, that might send the wrong impression and lead Lila to ask more questions than Helga would like.

"Donation?" chimed in Phoebe.

"Yes, donation. We need a donation. And we would like you to talk to her about it."

Lila seemed a bit confused.

"Well…if you need a donation, why not ask her yourself?"

Helga tried to think of something to say, but Phoebe picked up the slack.

"We believe that Rhonda might be more...comfortable if you were the person to ask her," said Phoebe.

"Oh…" Lila looked up at the ceiling. "So, what exactly do you need this for?"

Helga winced as Lila asked a question that she knew would inevitably come up. Helga still wasn't sure exactly what to say. Helga tried to think carefully, trying to give as much information as possible without mentioning Arnold or his parents.

"Look," said Helga, slowly, "we have this…friend. And this friend really, really needs a lot of money quick. This friend really needs a private plane to take him…somewhere, and he needs it soon. I know that sounds weird, but really, it's an emergency!"

"A friend?" said Lila. "Is it anyone I know?"

Unfortunately, Helga's instinct to become aggressive and defensive about the subject of Arnold kicked in before she could stop herself.

"None of your business! Criminy, what the hell makes you think you have a right to know everything?!" snapped Helga. Lila looked hurt and taken aback by Helga's statement.

"Helga!" said Phoebe, appalled.

Helga honestly had no intention of snapping at Lila, but she was unable to stop herself. Helga closed her eyes and reminded herself that snapping at Lila will only allow Arnold's suffering to be prolonged. She needed to show Lila that she really was, in fact, sincere.

_Come on, Helga. You're being stupid, _she thought. _Just focus on Arnold. Remember, even though you don't want to tell Lila everything and she can make you sick sometimes, just focus on Arnold. Remember this is all for Arnold._

Trying to swallow her pride, she began to talk, slowly and carefully.

"Listen, I'm…sorry, okay?" said Helga, trying to be upfront about the situation. "I've just been under a lot of stress. Lila, I…we really would like your help. But this situation is really very…personal to my friend. And I just don't feel right telling you everything. If you don't want to help, that's fine. But if you did, it would really help my friend out a lot."

Helga was surprised at the words that came out of her mouth. She looked at Lila, who was staring at Helga. It was clear to Helga that her speech had some effect on Lila. Helga wished she had thought of doing this sooner. Not once before had Helga considered that just telling Lila her honest thoughts and reservations about the situation would solve the problem.

Lila looked down at the floor.

"I…I think I understand, Helga," said Lila. "I'm ever so sorry. I was just oh so curious and…I really didn't think it was so serious."

"It is," said Helga. "Which is why we need you to talk to Rhonda. We need a donation from her in order to help him, and we need you to be the one to do it." Helga sighed. "So, will you help us?"

"Well…I-" Lila stopped for a moment. "Umm…Helga, did you just say your friend was a 'he'?"

Helga's eyes widened a bit. She realized she must have accidentally said "him" a moment ago. Helga felt the urge in her to become defensive again, but she tried to suppress her emotions.

"Well…yeah. So?"

Lila seemed to be thinking for a moment. After a moment, she gave a slight smile.

"Oh…I think I get it…" said Lila, in a soft sweet voice.

"Eh…what?" said Helga.

Lila looked up at Helga, with a sweet smile on her face.

"Of course I'll help, Helga," said Lila. "After all, if Ar- your friend is in trouble, I'm ever so certain I'll just have to at least try. I just think it's ever so sweet you'd go to so much trouble for him."

_Oh my God, she figured it out! _thought Helga. It was pretty obvious to Helga that Lila believed Arnold was the person she was trying to help. Helga was horrified to feel her face began to turn red. She avoided looking at Lila, cursing to herself; if Lila had any doubt before that Helga's "friend" referred to Arnold, it was probably gone now.

_Oh well, _thought Helga. _It's not like it matters now much anyway. As long as Little Ms. Perfect helps us help Arnold, it doesn't matter…unless she tells anyone, in which case I'll have to wring her neck, but I'll cross that bridge if we come to it._

Phoebe, for the first time in a while, spoke up.

"Umm…Helga?"

"Yeah, Feebs?" said Helga, turning towards her.

"Now what do we do?"

Helga raised her eyebrow at her friend.

"What do we do now?" said Helga. "What do you_think_ we do now? We've got to go over to Rhonda's and do this thing!"

Suddenly, Lila's smile faded a bit.

"Right now?"

"Yes, of course! You have a problem with that?" said Helga, more in an impatient tone than a hateful tone.

"Well no, but…" said Lila, trying to find the most non-hurtful way to phrase her statements. "Well…Olga…"

Helga, thinking she knew what Lila was about to say, glared at Lila.

"Oh, criminy, if this is about that dinner you two were going on, it can wait. This is more important than that! Besides, Phoebe told you it wouldn't take tha-"

"No no, that's not what I meant," said Lila. "I mean…well…shouldn't we ask Olga for help? I mean, she is older and ever so smart and…why are you snickering?"

Helga, even though she knew she was in the middle of a serious situation, couldn't help but snicker at Olga's idea.

"Yeah, sure, that's a _great_ idea," said Helga, sarcastically. Her snickering began to wind down. "Yeah, like Olga would ever be a help to anything I do."

Lila seemed shocked.

"But, but Helga," said Lila, "Olga has always been such an ever so good Big Sis and-"

"To_you_!" said Helga. "She's always been a good Big Sister to _you_! Heh, trust me, it's not the same between us. She's never made any effort at all to understand how I feel. She'd have no idea how I feel about…well, all of this."

Lila looked at Helga, with a mixture of sadness and empathy. After a moment, she opened her mouth to say something and Helga just shook her head.

"No, trust me," said Helga. "Getting Olga involved will just make everything way more complicated. Believe me, I know."

Lila still seemed unsure, but she made no attempt to argue with Helga after that. Phoebe adjusted her glasses.

"Well, if you're really sure you want to go now, we should go quickly," said Phoebe, grabbing her papers about the Green Eyes off the table. "Rhonda lives all the way across town, so we'll have to use the bus if we want to get there quickly."

"Alright, let's go," said Helga. She had felt fairly uneasy before, when trying to convert Lila to her side, but suddenly she felt invigorated. For once, she suddenly felt as if she had what it took to succeed. After all, she had just overcome her biggest obstacle in her life: herself. She had managed to swallow her pride and ask for the help of her old rival, who sympathized with her cause so quickly. Helga honestly felt as if they had a chance at really helping Arnold.

However, despite her sudden vigor, Helga was also afraid. She knew that their greatest challenge awaited them when they reached Rhonda. It was funny and cruel how life worked out, Helga thought. Right now, not just her fate but her dearest loves fate rested in the hands of Rhonda, a self-serving girl who was basically a wildcard. It felt like Helga was flipping a coin for Arnold's destiny, basically gambling on Lila to convince Rhonda to help her. At this point, Helga wasn't sure what would happen, but she knew she would try as hard as she could.

_Oh, Arnold, my love, _thought Helga to herself as she walked out of the door of her room. _I only pray that this works. If I should fail to save you in this, your darkest hour, how would I even be able to look at myself in the mirror? I have to do this. No more hesitation like I did with Lila…I must do everything in my power to make sure you get to San Lorenzo. There is no option but victory. Because if I allow you to continue in this sorrow, Arnold, I fear what will happen to you. I fear that the strength and the kindness I so adore will trickle away…_

Helga quickly walked down the stairs, with Phoebe and Lila lagging behind. Once Helga reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Olga exiting the kitchen. Olga immediately saw Helga and smiled. Helga groaned internally.

"Hello, Baby Sister!" said Olga, before Helga could say that she was about to leave. "I thought I heard Lila come in and-" She saw Lila and Phoebe come down for the stairs. Olga suddenly brightened up, overjoyed. "Oh, that's so cute! My Baby Sister and my Little Sis are finally getting along. Oh, that's just great! Oh, does this mean you want to come with us to dinner Helga? We could go right now! It's a little early but-"

_Criminy, I don't have time for this! _thought Helga. Helga opened her mouth to say something when Lila spoke up first.

"Actually, Olga," said Lila, timidly, "we were just about to go out for a bit. I'm ever so certain it won't take that long and we'll be back very quickly."

"Out? Out where?" asked Olga, curious.

Lila was about to say something, but Helga grew impatient.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry Olga, but we have to go," said Helga, quickly going towards the front door. Phoebe followed after her. Lila hesitated for a moment, then followed as well.

"Why are you in such a hurry?" said Olga, having a slightly worried tone in her voice based on Helga's mood. "Are you alright?"

"Sorry, can't hear you!" said Helga, swinging open the door and stepping out. Phoebe gave Olga a sympathetic glance than walked out with Helga. Lila also exited as well.

"Really, Olga, it's not anything like that at all. I'm ever so sure," said Lila, hastily as she walked out the door.

"But-" said Olga, but was cut off as the door slammed behind the trio. Olga stared at the door a few moments, curious and worried about what had just transpired, before reluctantly returning to the kitchen.

* * *

Arnold stood in front of the door to the boarding house. After a long walk, he had finally returned home. During his entire walk, he had tried to comprehend his complicated thoughts concerning Helga. However, once he reached home, he found he had a new anxiety.

_What am I going to tell my grandparents? _said Arnold. Yesterday, when Arnold had been far more emotional, Arnold had wanted to avoid making his grandparents worry and resolved to not indicate there was a problem. However, the more Arnold thought about it, the more he began to think how foolish a course of action that was. Arnold knew that his grandparents understood him better than anyone else. After the past fourteen years, it would be easy for them to notice when Arnold is upset or not. Although he did not want to make them worry, he realized that refusing to say anything would only make them worry more. Arnold felt foolish for thinking that simply hiding his own emotions would solve anything.

_Gerald was right, _said Arnold. _I am being hypocritical. Trying to keep all my problems inside isn't really going to help anyway. I wish I could tell them...but...  
_

On the other hand, at the same time, Arnold felt like he couldn't tell his grandparents the real reason he was upset. However, unlike with Gerald, he had a clear, conscious reason for not wanting to tell the truth to his grandparents. By saying his parents were the source of his suffering, it would likely open old wounds in the hearts of Grandma and Grandpa. After all, Arnold did not even remember his parents and he felt terrible for loosing them. Grandma and Grandpa knew his parents, loved them, and lost them. He could not imagine how painful it could be for them to think about that.

So, Arnold knew he could not simply say nothing was wrong, but he also could not tell the truth. After much thought, Arnold thought of a decent way to avoid telling the truth to his grandparents without making them worry more. Arnold took a deep breath, hoping that his plan would work.

Arnold opened the door and entered the boarding house. Abner was sleeping peacefully by the door at Arnold's feet. He walked in, looking around to see if his grandparents were around. Not seeing them around, Arnold was about to walk up the stairs when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Evening, Hoss! Ain't seen you mosey around these parts for a while. It's good to see you, I reckon!"

Arnold let out a short groan and turned to see his grandma standing behind him, energetic as she always was. She currently wore a ten gallon hat, since she seemed to be going through an odd Western cowgirl phase for the past week or so. Grandma went though many odd personas such as this; Arnold, however, had lived with Grandma long enough that he barely registered as odd behavior to him.

Shortly after this, Arnold saw his Grandpa enter.

"Dag nabbit, Pookie, how long are you going to keep up with that?" said Grandpa.

"I'm just remembering where I came from, Earp. Remembering my roots, is all."

Grandpa put his hand over his face.

"Pookie, your family didn't even come from the Old West. They came from Rhode Island!"

"What's your point?"

Grandma glanced up at Arnold and noticed the look on his face. Suddenly, the sillyness that she had displayed left. Grandpa also looked up at Arnold, but did not change his expression.

"I…I'm just going to go start getting dinner ready," said Grandma, leaving for the kitchen. Grandpa remained in the room, looking at Arnold.

"Umm…hey, Shortman," said Grandpa. "So…how was your day?"

Arnold took a deep breath. He couldn't tell the truth, but he wasn't going to lie. He thought if he could simply tell vague half-truths, his grandparents would see he was telling the truth to some extent and not push the issue further.

"I've had better, Grandpa," said Arnold.

"You were a little late today."

"Yeah. Gerald ran into me. We talked about…things."

"I see," said Grandpa. "You know…if there's anything you ever need to talk about, you know you can talk to me and your grandma. You do know that, right Arnold?"

"Yeah, I know. It's just…" Arnold tried to get as close to the truth as possible without actually saying the source of his depression. "It's just that there's been a lot of things going on."

"You gonna be alright, Arnold?"

"Sure," said Arnold, not sure if he really meant that or not. "I'm just going to go up to my room for a bit."

"Okay," said Grandpa, with a sad expression on his face. "If…you know…if you change your mind and want to talk later, you can talk to me."

"I know Grandpa. Thanks."

Arnold climbed the stairs. Arnold felt a mixture of guilt and relief. He was relieved that he had avoided possibly hurting his grandparents feelings by mentioning his parents, but at the same time, he felt guilty that he had still made them feel dejected by not telling the whole truth. This paradox weighed heavily in Arnold's mind. It seemed that, lately, Arnold was becoming less and less able to find a way to fix everything. Before, the problems around him had been simple and could be solved if with enough thought and determination. But now, all his problems seemed to become far more complicated. He was faced with problems without a clear solution or, even worse, problems that he knew had no "correct" solution at all. Everything was becoming more complicated, starting with his failure to get a plane to San Lorenzo. His own coping with his own feelings, his desperation when he lost the journal, his odd decision to reveal the truth to only Helga for a reason that he could not even pinpoint himself. Everything seemed to grow in complexity with each passing second and Arnold was beginning to feel himself unraveled.

_Maybe I just need to lie down, _thought Arnold, knowing that if he dwelled on all his problems at once again, he would only become overcome with stress and emotion once more._Maybe it'll let me clear my head a bit. That should help._

So, Arnold walked up to his room and set his bookbag on the floor (after making sure the journal was in it once more). He walked over to his bed, lied down, and wrapped himself in the covers.

He began to shut his eyes, hoping a short nap would help him in even the slightest bit.

* * *

Olga sat down in the kitchen, in deep thought. No matter how much she tried not to think about it, her mind seemed to drift toward Helga's irregular behavior as she left with Lila and Phoebe. Olga was aware that Helga thought she did not pay her any attention, but Olga did. The thought of something upsetting her Baby Sister made her upset, but she could not think about what could possibly be the cause of it. Although Olga did care about Helga, they never were that close. During their childhood, their parents had a tendency to shower Olga with attention, while ignoring Helga. This had caused a rift between the two. What made it worse was that, when they were younger, Olga barely even noticed the neglectful treatment her sister received. If she had a chance to do it all over again, she would. So now, Olga was making it her personal mission to try to understand her sister better.

However, it was not that simple. Thus far, Helga had showed very little inclination to open up to Olga. Any attempt for Olga to try to get involved in Helga's life usually ended up doing more damage than good. Olga would liked to have believed it was just because Helga didn't want to give her a chance, but Olga was aware that her actions, though well meaning, often led to complications in Helga's life.

Olga sighed. Even though she knew it was unlikely Helga would open up to her, she still wished she could understand Helga a little better, so that they could have a relationship Olga felt sisters should have. Not just like her relationship with Lila, but deeper than that. She wanted Helga not just to like her, but to trust her. Unfortunately, even though Olga liked to think optimistically, she had to admit that wasn't likely to happen soon. The scars of the past are hard to erase.

Olga was snapped out her trance by hearing a knocking at the door. Shaking her head, she got up. She walked over to the front door and saw a tall, unfamiliar man. The man wore dark sunglasses and a brown coat. Although it was difficult to tell, Olga thought the man was relatively close to her age. The man stood at the door, limping on one leg, as if it had been injured recently.

"Can I help you?" said Olga, politely.

"Yes, I'm sorry to disturb you, but is Ms. Helga Pataki in?"

"My sister? I'm sorry, but you just missed her."

The Stranger lowered his head a bit. It was hard to read his expression through the sunglasses, but the man looked dejected.

"Oh, I see." The Stranger reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a sealed white envelope. "Well, if its not too much trouble, could you please give this note to her?"

Olga did not take the note right away. She looked the suspicious looking man up and down.

"Umm…might I ask what its for?"

The man's eyebrows raised. He let out a laugh.

"How stupid of me. I'm so sorry," he said, his laughter dying down.. "I can imagine how strange this must look. Let me explain. I am…a guidance counselor at the high school."

"Oh, really?" said Olga, now feeling foolish.

"Yes," lied the Stranger.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that…well…with the coat and glasses you just sort of looked…"

The Stranger smiled.

"Trust me, I get that a lot. No need to apologize. I'd act the same way in your position." The Stranger's smile faded. "Anyway, Helga needed some very…important information. I had hoped to talk to her about it in person, but I suppose that will have to wait." The Stranger held the letter out. "So, can you please give this to her?"

"Yes, yes of course," said Olga, taking the letter. "I'll give this to her once she gets home."

"Good. Thank you, Ms. Pataki."

"Thank you, Mister…" Olga stopped. She giggled nervously. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

"My name?" he said. He paused for a moment, then smiled. "Sorry, I suppose that was pretty rude of me. My name is Vigil. Mr. Vigil." He turned to leave. "Anyway, I have to go. Thanks again."

"Your welcome. Bye, Mr. Vigil."

The man who called himself Vigil walked down the sidewalk, still with a slight limp. Olga walked in the house and closed the door behind her. She looked at the envelope, wondering what was in it. Of course, she would never invade her sister's privacy by reading it, but she was curious.

_That guidance counselor sure acted like it was pretty important, _thought Olga. _Maybe what Baby Sister was worried about had something to do with this?_Olga sighed. _It's sad. That guidance counselor probably knows more about Helga's feelings than I do._

She looked at envelope again.

_Well, I should probably just leave this on Helga's desk, _thought Olga, going up the stairs. _She'll probably want to see this right away and I don't want to lose it or anything._

Olga walked into Helga's room and gently placed the envelope on the center of her desk. Olga was about to leave, but then stopped. She looked around the room.

_Baby Sister, there's so much about you I don't understand, _thought Olga. _I wish I did though. I wish I could know you. _Olga walked over to the wall. _I wish we could trust each other and get along. Then you and I could finally put everything behind us and finally act like we're part of a real family. If only we could. _Olga leaned back against the closet door. _If on-_

As Olga leaned against the closet door (which had apparently been left partially open), she fell backwards. The back of her head thudded against the floor. After a small shout of pain, Olga sat up and rubbed her head. She got to her feet and turned to close the door of the closet when she noticed its contents. In the back of the closet, surrounded by numerous notebooks with pink covers, Olga could clearly see a small, football headed statue made of wood, surrounded by unlit candles as if it was a shrine.

"What the…?" whispered Olga to herself.


	6. Chapter Six: The Temple

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Six: The Temple

* * *

_This doesn't make any sense, _thought Olga, sitting in front of the shrine she had just stumbled upon in Helga's closet. She reached out and touched the carved statue in front of her, as if she needed to make sure it was really there.

Olga was not sure what to make of the statue. It was the strangest thing she had ever seen. Helga had never seemed to show any interest in anything remotely artistic, but from what Olga could see, this statue was hand-carved. It seemed almost religious, considering the numerous candles surrounding it.

_But what is it supposed to be?! _thought Olga. _And why would Baby Sister have something like this in her closet?_

Olga looked at the head of the statue, which seemed vaguely football shaped. Olga never recalled seeing any figure in any religion having a football shaped head, yet Olga could not shake a feeling of déjà vu. She had felt that somewhere, she had seen someone or something like this; however, she could not put her finger on where.

Olga had no idea how to approach this situation; after all, dealing with finding a secret, pseudo-religious shrine in a sibling's closet was not exactly a commonly found problem. This whole situation had Olga very worried.

_Oh, Baby Sister, what is going on with you? _thought Olga. She also became annoyed with herself. _Why didn't I know about this? Why didn't I see any warning signs? After all, for all I know this could be a cry for help. A…very, very unusual cry for help. What kind of sister am I?_

Olga became aware that she was breathing very hard. She tried to relax.

_Okay, calm down, Olga, _thought Olga to herself. _Just try to relax and think this through._

Olga tried to think of what to do. As she was in thought, her eyes remained fixed on the odd shrine. She needed to figure out what the meaning of this statue was. Having calmed down a bit, Olga thought it was possible that the statue was just normal artistic expression. Helga could have simply felt compelled to sculpt this image and simply hid it out of fear of criticism from her parents and classmates. This seemed plausible, but she did not believe that was the whole truth. The fact that Helga had gone to so much trouble to set up a shrine around it made Olga believe it wasn't _just _any other sculpture. In some way, this statue must be special in some way.

Olga tried to think of how to figure out what the meaning of the statue was when her eyes were drawn to the pink notebooks strewn around the floor of the closet. They were all near the shrine, so it was likely there was some connection. She reached for one of the books, thinking maybe everything would be cleared up if she just looked in one…

Realizing what she was doing, Olga jerked her hand back.

_What am I doing? _she thought. _I can't just look through my Baby Sister's things like this. I mean, those books could be her personal diary or something. I can't just invade her privacy like this. I mean, I wasn't even supposed to be in her closet in the first place. What right do I have to look through all her things?_

_But, on the other hand, if something is wrong with Baby Sister, and all this really _is _a cry for help, than I need to make sense of all this._

Olga was conflicted. For the first time in her life, she was confronted with a problem that she could not easily answer. Usually, Olga could always figure out the right thing to do in almost any situation, whether it was a test, a job interview, or just living in general. However, she was confronted with a problem she could not make sense of.

It did not help Olga's decision making when she realized that, deep down, she really did want to look at the books. After all, Olga had desperately wanted to know more about her sister, so that they could have a better relationship. Like magic, just after she had wished it, she had stumbled upon the shrine and the notebooks, which might hold the key to finally understanding what she thought. However, just because she personally wanted to read it, it did not mean that reading them was the morally right thing to do.

Temporarily resisting temptation, she tried to think if there was some other way she could find the meaning of the statue.

_Maybe there's some other way, _she thought. _After all, this statue does sort of look familiar. Maybe I should try to look this up on the Internet, see if its really religious or artistic or something like that…but for some reason, I don't think I'd turn up much of anything. Maybe I should try asking one of Helga's friends. But Phoebe and Little Sis ran off with Helga…who else could I ask? There must be some other friends Helga would-_

Olga suddenly stopped. All of a sudden, she recognized where she had seen the statue before.

_Her friends, of course! _thought Olga. _Why didn't I see it before? Helga had that one friend whose head looked exactly like this statue. That nice little boy with the tiny hat. What was his name? Arthur? No…Archie? No no…Arnold! That's it!_

Olga stared at the statue.

_But, if I remember right, Baby Sister and Arnold don't really get along that well, so that still doesn't really explain why Helga would have a statue of him in her room…unless…_

Olga's eyes widened. She was close to the truth now; most of the pieces seemed like they were beginning to fit. Bickering with him, acting out around him, having a large statue of him in her closet...there was only one logical explanation!

_Baby Sister is in love!_

Olga was surprised, but strangely relieved. After all, a moment ago, she thought the statue signified that Helga was in some sort of bizarre cult.

But, even though she was a bit relieved, Olga was still concerned. Even if Helga really was in love with Arnold, carving large statues wasn't exactly a normal show of affection. Also, as far as Olga could remember, Helga and Arnold weren't in any kind of relationship, so it was possible that her sister was rejected and the statue was an expression of her unrequited desires. She was also worried that it could be even more complicated than that.

Olga looked down at the books again. Her mind was racing.

_I think I've figured out a bit of this…but it still feels like this is just the tip of the iceberg, _thought Olga. _If Baby Sister is in pain, I just have to know about it. And I don't think she's the type to be open about this sort of thing…this might be my only chance._

Hesitantly, Olga grabbed one of the pink notebooks. Even though she felt like she was doing the right thing, she still could not completely shake the lingering guilt she had felt before. Taking a deep breath, she opened to the first page of the notebook.

* * *

Arnold was dreaming.

He found himself in a very unfamiliar place, with no memory of how he had gotten there (and a very fuzzy memory of anything else). He was in small room that was so dark that Arnold could only barely make out his surroundings. He could see stone walls surrounding him that looked ancient. Scrawled across the walls was incomprehensible writing that looked like hieroglyphics. For some reason unknown to him, Arnold felt certain he was a temple, someplace far away. He could hear the faint sound of wind blowing. The air in the room felt freezing, as if he had stepped into a meat locker.

Arnold walked around the room, trying to look for a way out. He searched along the walls of the room, but he could not find a door anywhere. He began to feel more afraid, fearing he would never return to the surface again.

"Hello?!" he shouted out. "Is anyone out there?! Hellooooo?!"

He heard nothing, except for the distant whistling of the wind.

"Helloooooo?! Anybody?!"

There was no answer.

Arnold folded his arms, shivering. He almost thought he could see his own breath. He paced around as he thought, hoping the movement would keep him warm. Arnold desperately tried to think of a way out, but he came up with nothing.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Arnold heard a noise through the walls. He instantly stopped pacing and ran over to the wall. He put his ear against the freezing stone surface. He heard the sound of a propeller, like one on a helicopter or-

_Or a plane_, he thought. He took his ear from the wall and shook his head. _Why is it that that sound seems so…familiar? Wh-_

The noise seemed to get louder. Arnold moved away from the wall, but the noise got louder and louder and-

There was a loud crash that made Arnold flinch. He felt the floor shake a bit. Shocked, he ran to the wall, to see if he could hear anything else.

There was now nothing, aside from the sound of the wind. For some reason, Arnold suddenly felt as if he had a knot in his stomach. He felt a drop of water on the side of his face and realized that he had cried a single tear. He sat down, resting his back against the wall. Arnold was beginning to feel very numb from the cold. He knew he should try moving to keep warm, but he felt as if the will to get up had suddenly left. He looked around the room, which Arnold thought seemed a bit smaller than it did a moment before.

He sat for a while, becoming colder and colder. After a few minutes, Arnold felt like he could collapse any moment. His vision of the room turned hazy, like an out of focus picture. He began to feel his eyes getting heavier as his body continued to numb.

Suddenly, Arnold heard something that made him stand up immediately. Beyond the wall, he heard faint whispers that seemed to come from all around him. He moved up against the wall again. The whispers seemed to come from a thousand different voices at once. However, what Arnold found distressing was that most of the voices he seemed vaguely familiar.

He listened closer, trying to decipher what they were saying. Although most of it was unintelligible, he was able to pick out a few nonsensical words and phrases. "_I'm sorry, sir, but there's nothing I can do._" "_Corazon…" "You know if something's bothering you, you can tell me, right?" "La Sombra…Corazon…San Lorenzo." "How's it going, shortman?" _All the whispers seemed random and unconnected to Arnold…yet somehow, he felt as if he had heard them before.

"Hello?!" yelled Arnold, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. "I'm in here! Someone let me out!"

As soon as he spoke, all the whispering suddenly stopped. He looked around, trying to listen for the voices. While he was listening, he once again got the paranoid feeling that the room was becoming smaller.

He turned back to the wall. "Hellooo?! Help! Someone let me out! HELP!" he shouted, but he heard nothing. He felt as if the walls were closing in on him. Fear washed over Arnold. He started pounding at the cold stone wall. "HELP! Grandpa! Gerald! Mom! Dad! Somebody help me!"

He pounded his bruising hand against the wall one final time and suddenly heard a crumbling sound beneath him. Arnold looked down and, to his horror, saw that the floor beneath him was cracking. Before Arnold could do anything, the floor began to cave in beneath his feet. Large pieces of stone cracked and fell into what seemed to be a bottomless pit. He tried desperately to grip the wall and avoid plummeting into its depths, but to no avail. He began to feel himself faint as he fell into the darkness…

In what felt like only seconds, Arnold opened his eyes, finding lying down upon the stone floor. His back and limbs felt a bit sore, but he did not seem to be seriously injured. He sat up, slowly, and found himself in a large stone corridor. Large, jagged bits of stone were scattered around him.

As he looked around, he felt a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, as if he was being watched. He turned around and saw a woman standing over him. She wore a pink dress and had a matching pink bow in her hair. She looked to be about Arnold's age. She folded her arms and gave him a smirk.

"Rise and shine, Football Head," she said.

Arnold tried to rise to his feet, but his soreness made him sit back down before he rose completely. He rubbed a bruise on the back of his neck.

"What happened?" he said. "Who are you?"

The girl's smirk faded as she showed a look of concern.

"You feeling alright?" she said.

"I think so."

"Oh," said the girl, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "That's really good."

"But…it's weird…I thought I fell…"

"Yeah, you did." The girl looked away, not wishing to look Arnold in the eye for some reason. "I sorta…took care of you, I guess."

"Took care of me?"

"Yeah, you know…tended to your injuries, looked after you, that sort of thing."

Arnold looked at the girl, even though she didn't look back. He couldn't express the gratitude he felt for the girl. When he thought everything was hopeless, when he thought he was as good as dead, she was there. When he really needed someone to be there, she was there to look after him. He tried to think of the right works to express his immense gratitude, but he couldn't think of any.

"Well…thanks," said Arnold, cursing himself mentally for not thinking of anything better to say.

"Yeah…no problem," said the girl. Arnold couldn't tell from the low lighting, but he thought he could see her face redden slightly.

Arnold looked at the girl more closely. He got another odd feeling that he couldn't shake.

"Um…excuse me?" he said.

The girl looked up at him. "Yes?"

"Do I…know you from somewhere?"

The girl stared at him for a few seconds, then just smirked. She looked around.

"Well, anyway," she said, either forgetting Arnold's question or simply ignoring it, "I think it's about time we got out of here."

"Out? You know the way out?"

"Nope, not a clue," she said, walking up to him.

"Well…which way do we go? How will we get out?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll find a way." She held her hand out in front of him. "So, let's go."

Arnold stared at the hand for a moment before grabbing it. The girl's hand was surprisingly warm to the touch; all the coldness Arnold had felt before vanished in an instant. The girl pulled Arnold up to his feet. He looked over at the girl, then down the dark corridor that laid in front of them. Arnold and the girl took a deep breath and they began to walk down the hall, hand in hand.

* * *

Arnold eyes popped open. He sat up, breathing heavily, and rubbed the sweat off his forehead. He couldn't remember the last time he had a dream so vivid.

_What was THAT about? _thought Arnold, rubbing his temples. He had hoped taking a nap would help him calm down and clear his head a little. But that dream was so bizarre dream just made him think about all his problems even more. He got out of the bed and started pacing. _I think I'm starting to lose my mind, _he thought, as all his anxiety about his parents and Helga returned to the surface.

_Why do I keep thinking about this? _he thought. _Ever since I told Helga everything, I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I can't understand why I did it. I just don't-_

Arnold stopped. He remembered when he saw Helga in his dream. He remembered the feeling he felt when he knew that she had helped him when he knew nobody else could. He sat down on the bed, recalling other times Helga had helped him. When he ran away from home on Thanksgiving and ran into her, when Lila rejected him for the very first time, and finally, when he saved the neighborhood from FutureTech Industries. Even though she bullied him since they were kids, even though she makes fun of him often to hide her true feelings, it seemed like whenever he was really in need, Helga was there. Of course, this wasn't surprising, Arnold thought, considering she had…strong feelings for him.

_And just how do I feel about her?_

Arnold looked up, surprised; he had never been taken so off-guard by his own thoughts before. He sat for a moment, but he couldn't think of an answer.

_I mean, obviously she's a good friend, _thought Arnold. _A great friend, really. But she's just a friend…isn't she? Just a friend…_

…_a friend that I've been practically obsessing about the entire day. God, I'm not even sure how I feel anymore. Between this and almost losing the journal and not getting a plane I just…I don't know what to do!_

Realizing he was about to get himself upset, Arnold stopped and took a deep breath.

_I really am gonna lose it if I don't do something about this, _he realized. _Keeping all of this to myself is only gonna make things worse. And, after all, I did feel a little better after I told Helga everything…and for some reason, I really seem to trust her about this sort of thing…_

He stood up from the bed.

_I've been going about this all wrong_, he thought. _I know what I have to do._

Arnold walked out of his room and slowly crept down the stairway. At the foot of the stairs, he looked around to make sure his grandparents were around. Through the hall, he could see his Grandma and Grandpa in the kitchen. He could hear them talking, but he couldn't make out any words.

_They're probably talking about how worried they are about me, _he thought sadly. He hated making his grandparents worry, but he didn't want to burden him with his own serious problems, especially when they involved his parents. He knew who he had to talk to. He snuck to the front door, turned the doorknob, and slipped out.

* * *

"Hey Gerald," said Stinky, snapping Gerald out of his train of thought. Gerald looked up at Stinky and Sid, two friends who, like Arnold, he had known since pre-school. Stinky was a very tall country boy, while Sid was a fast-talking short kid, who often allowed himself to get carried away in whatever situation he's currently involved in. After Gerald had talked to Arnold, Gerald had run into the pair in Slausen's Ice Cream Parlor. Currently, they were just walking down the sidewalk, simply killing time.

"Huh?" said Gerald. "Oh, sorry. I've sorta had a lot on my mind today." He had tried to hang out with Stinky and Sid to take his mind off his concern about Arnold's peculiar mood; however, despite himself, his mind continued to drift back to the subject of Arnold. Arnold was his best friend, and he couldn't helped but worry about him. The fact Arnold refused to tell him what his actual problem was just made him worry more. Arnold told him everything; if there was a problem so severe that he wasn't comfortable telling Gerald, than something very serious was going on.

Stinky and Sid gave eachother a look, then turned back to Gerald.

"Umm…Gerald, are you sure you're okay?" asked Sid.

"Yeah," said Stinky, "you've sorta been actin'…um…" He scratched his head, looking for the right word.

"Worried?" suggested Sid.

"No…"

"Preoccupied?"

"Nah."

"Um…just plain weird?"

"Yeah, that's it," said Stinky, turning back to Gerald. "Yeah, you've been actin' a bit weird. It ain't like you at all to be so…you know…shook up."

"Yeah, I know," said Gerald, scratching the back of his neck. "It's just…" He stopped. He would be relieved to share his concerns with someone else, but could never betray Arnold's confidence. "I don't feel like talking about it."

Stinky and Sid shared a look of concern.

"But don't worry," said Gerald quickly. "Everything will be fine." _At least, I hope so, _he added mentally.

"Well…alright Gerald. Whatever you say," said Stinky. "Well…Sid, what do you think we should do now?" Sid, who was staring down the street, gave no reply. "Sid? Hey, Sid! What's going on?"

"Hey, isn't that Helga?" said Sid, pointing down the sidewalk.

Gerald raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he said.

"Look," said Sid.

Gerald and Stinky looked down the street. In the distance, running in their direction, was Helga. On her face was a peculiar, vaguely determined look. Gerald also saw Phoebe, clutching some papers and looking out of breath as she sprinted behind her. Gerald was also surprised to see that Lila was with them, trying very hard to keep up with the other girls' pace.

"Wilikers, what are they in such a hurry about?" said Stinky to Sid, who simply shrugged.

_Good question, _thought Gerald. It was odd to see Helga in such a hurry, and it was even more bizarre to see her looking so…determined about something. As if that wasn't weird enough, Lila was with them. Gerald wasn't completely sure, but he had always thought Helga didn't like Lila. Granted, it was possible they had simply become friends recently, but Gerald thought it was just so odd to see them together.

Gerald looked up at the look on Helga's face as they rapidly approached them. _Jeez, what could she be so fired up about? _He thought. _I've never seen her looking like that. Well, except maybe…_

Gerald suddenly remembered something.

_Except for this morning! _He thought. He remembered this morning when Helga had snapped at him on the bus and left. Helga often seemed angry, but he had never seen her so furious and offended about something. Something about her attitude in the morning reminded Gerald of the look she had on now, but he couldn't pinpoint what. _She really is acting weird today. I mean, first she snaps at me and now this. Why would she snap at me anyway? All I did was tell her about Ar-_

His eyes widened as realization dawned upon him. Helga had snapped at Gerald after asking about Arnold. In his own worry over Arnold, he had completely forgotten about it. For some reason, Helga had taken an interest in Arnold's mood. Gerald told her his concern for his friend (which he honestly only did because Phoebe gave him a look once Helga asked about it), and something he said made her angry. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was genuinely upset about it.

And now, Helga was in a hurry, with a determined look on her face. She looked like a girl on a mission.

_It just seems like too much of a coincidence, _he thought. He thought about how preoccupied Arnold was and how weird Helga's behavior was this morning. _Could there really be a connection?_

Gerald thought for a minute, then laughed to himself.

_Look at me, _he thought. _I'm becoming paranoid. Come on, there's no way. I'm just worrying too much. I really need to relax, before I go nuts._

But even as he thought this, a small part of his brain was saying _But what if you're right?_

As Gerald thought this, Helga barreled past Stinky, Sid, and him, without saying a word; it seemed like she didn't even notice they were there. Phoebe was right behind her, but she stumbled near Sid and fell to the pavement.

"Phoebe!" said Gerald, instinctively running over. He held his hand out to her.

"Oh, hi Gerald," said Phoebe, quickly grabbing his hand and pulling herself up. She picked up the papers she had been carrying.

Lila was running, but slowed down as she saw that Phoebe had stopped.

"Oh, Phoebe, are you alright?" said Lila.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she replied. She looked down the street. Gerald followed her gaze and saw she was looking at Helga, who had stopped halfway down the street. She was staring back at them, with a confused look on her face. "I think we better catch up to Helga."

"Yeah," Gerald said, "You guys sorta seem in a rush."

"Yeah, what's up?" said Sid.

Phoebe looked at Gerald, but didn't say anything. Lila, however, spoke up.

"Oh, I'm ever so certain that it's a…delicate matter," she said. "And I'm oh so sure we should be going. We have a bus to catch, after all."

"Yeah, you're right," said Phoebe. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gerald." She turned to go.

"Hey wait," said Gerald quickly. Phoebe and Lila stopped.

"Yes, Gerald?" asked Phoebe.

Gerald scratched behind his neck. _I have to ask, _he thought. _The sooner I ask and she says I'm wrong, the sooner I can stop thinking about this._

"Well," said Gerald, leaning in to whisper to her. "This is probably gonna sound crazy but…" He cleared his throat. "This umm…this wouldn't have anything to do with Arnold, would it?"

He had expected Phoebe to give Gerald a confused look and ask if he was crazy. However, this was not the reaction he got. For a moment, Phoebe's eyes widened a bit and she simply stared up at Gerald, saying nothing. Then, quickly, she turned away.

"I'm…I don't know what you mean," she said rapidly. "Well, sorry, but I gotta go. Bye Gerald."

Phoebe quickly ran down the street to join her friend, with Lila following behind her. Gerald stared at them as they left.

"Well, that was weird," said Stinky.

"Yeah," said Sid. "What do you suppose that was about, Gerald?"

Gerald didn't say anything. He stared down the street until the trio was out of sight.

_It can't be, _he thought. _There's just no way. _However, Phoebe's reaction was undeniable. It was clear there was something strange going on with Lila, Phoebe, and Helga.

And Arnold had something to do with it.

"Gerald?" said Sid.

"Umm…you guys go on ahead," said Gerald. "I just remembered there's something I have to go take care of. Later guys."

Gerald started walking briskly in the direction Helga and the others had gone. Without realizing it, he started running after just a few blocks. Lila mentioned they had to catch the bus, so he knew exactly where to go. He wasn't sure what he hoped to accomplish by following them, but he felt that it was something he had to do.

_If this really has something to do with Arnold…I just have to know. I have to find out what's wrong, _he thought.

Stinky and Sid watched as Gerald sprinted out of sight. Sid looked up at Stinky.

"Do you get the feeling that we're missing something?" he said.

Stinky shrugged. They stared down the path Gerald had taken another moment before walking off.

* * *

By the time she reached the bus stop, Helga thought she was going to collapse. Sweat was dripping down her brow, and her hamstrings felt like they were going to snap in two. Even though she was exhausted, she was happy she had gotten to the stop as fast as possible; every second they wasted was another second that Arnold could be suffering. She had ran the entire way to the bus stop, stopping only briefly when Phoebe and Lila had run into Gerald. She sat down on the bench. A few moments later, Phoebe and Lila, both looking very exhausted as well, arrived and sat down next to her.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, partially because of the run, but also over anxiety of the task before her. Helga had never felt so nervous before.

Apparently, Phoebe detected this.

"Are you feeling alright, Helga?" she asked quietly.

Helga looked up at her and spoke at a fast rate. "Yes, of course, I'm fine. I mean, why wouldn't I be fine. I'm alright. Really." She gave a weak laugh.

"You're nervous, aren't you?"

Helga looked back down without answering. A child couldn't have been fooled by that act. _I really am out of it, _she thought. _I'm so nervous I can't even lie right. I mean, why wouldn't I be? Not only am I trying to help the person I care most about in the world, which makes me feel like I have the whole weight of the world on my shoulders, but I'm essentially putting his fate in the hands of Lila and Rhonda! I mean, what are the odds that this will work, really? What if I can't do it? How will I be able to face Arnold again? _Her hands started shaking._ And Arnold…oh, my gentile, football-headed Adonis, what will become of you? What if you never recover? What if I have to watch your optimistic, kind nature wither and die before my very eyes? What if-_

Helga felt something on her shoulder, which made her come back to reality. He looked to her right and saw Lila patting her on the shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile.

"I'm ever so sure everything will be okay, Helga," she said. "I'm certain of it."

In any other circumstance, Helga would have probably come up with a snappy, sarcastic comeback to Lila's naïve optimistic comment; however, oddly enough, this comment made Helga feel slightly better. She looked back down.

"Thanks," she said sincerely, without looking at Lila.

_Lila actually making me feel better? _She thought, slightly amused. _What's next, flying pigs?_

After about five agonizing minutes of waiting, the bus finally pulled up to the stop. She bolted to the bus as soon as the clear doors opened. She placed her first foot on the step, then stopped. Helga had the strange feeling that she was being watched. She was instantly reminded of the strange man in the brown coat, who seemed to know something about Arnold. She whipped around, but saw nobody there except Lila and Phoebe.

"Something wrong, Helga?" asked Phoebe.

Helga searched for any sign that the Stranger, or anybody else, was there, but saw nobody.

"No…it's nothing, Feebs," she said, turning around to get on the bus. _Great,_ she thought,_ now I'm going crazy. Well…crazi_er.

Helga, Phoebe, and Lila walked in, paid the fare, and sat in seats at the back of the bus. Phoebe laid the papers she'd been carrying neatly across her lap. After a minute or so, the bus closed its doors and began to move slowly down the street.

_Criminy, why can't this thing go any faster? _She thought, devoid of any patience whatsoever. She wanted to get to Rhonda's as fast as possible, even though she was scared about what might happen there. Helga realized that logic was pretty ridiculous; she imagined herself as a prisoner rushing to her own execution.

"You said Rhonda was across town, right?" said Helga to Lila. "How long should it take to get there?"

Lila stopped and thought for a minute. "About…fifteen, twenty minutes, I suppose."

Helga rolled her eyes.

"Great," she said, "more waiting."

"I'll be alright, Helga," said Phoebe. "Just try to relax."

Helga let out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah, a bit easier said than done, Feebs."

The bus stopped in front of another bus stop. A few people got on the bus. Helga caught a glimpse of one and stood up.

"Helga, what's wrong?" said Lila.

"I…" Helga began, but stopped. She was certain she had caught a glimpse of Gerald entering the bus. She looked around, but couldn't see him anyway. Finally, she supposed it must have just been her imagination. "Umm…nevermind." She sat down.

_Great, I'm paranoid, _she thought._ Not exactly the best quality to have when you're trying to relax. _She sighed. _I'm gonna be in the nut house before this is over. Oh well…at least the food there would probably be better than Miriam's cooking._

Helga sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to relax; however, her effort was fruitless. As much as she tried to think about anything else, all she could think about Arnold's dilemma and how horrible it would be if she screwed up.

_God, at this rate, I'll have a panic attack before we get there. I need to get my mind on something else…anything else!_

She looked around and noticed the papers Phoebe had on her lap.

"Hey Feebs, what's that?" she asked.

Phoebe looked down at the papers.

"Oh! Right, I had nearly forgotten," said Phoebe. "It's the creation myth for the Green-Eyed People. I looked it up after you asked about it this morning, remember?"

Helga did remember asking Phoebe about the Green-Eyed People. After reading Miles's journal, she couldn't help being curious about the mysterious people. However, after she had talked to Arnold, she had been to busy to think of how to solve Arnold's problem than satisfy her minor curiosity about the Green-Eyed People.

_Well, I guess it's as good a topic as any, _she thought. _I really would like to know more about them. Besides, talking about it might stave off madness for another ten minutes._

"So," said Helga to Phoebe, "this myth…did you read it?"

"Oh yes. It's rather fascinating," said Phoebe.

"Really?" said Lila, chiming in. "I'd love to hear about it. I'm ever so interested in other cultures."

"Heh, for once Lila, I agree with you," said Helga. She looked back at Phoebe. "So, lay it on us, Feebs."

Phoebe picked up the pages. She adjusted her glasses and stared at the first page.

"Um…well," she said, "I guess we should start at the beginning…"

* * *

Olga turned another page in the pink notebook, fascinated by what she was reading. She was already halfway through the first notebook she had picked up, and she already had some serious insight into her sister's mind. Although Olga had originally thought the pink notebooks were diaries, what they really were was even more surprising; all of the pink notebooks were handwritten books of poetry. Every page of the notebooks was filled with poems that delved into the deep recesses of Helga's soul. The first thing that Olga noticed right away was that most of Helga's poems seemed to be about love, which surprised her. Even though it was obvious that Helga was in love with Arnold, Olga had no idea she was so passionate and in touch with her emotions. Even though she acted hostile most of the time, Helga was obviously a sensitive little girl. Somehow, deep down, Olga had always known that was the case.

_But why didn't you ever show that side to me, Baby Sister? _she thought, knowing full well the answer to that. Because their parents always showered Olga with affection, Helga always seemed to get neglected. That kind of pain is not easy to overcome, so Helga and Olga had always been rather distant. But now, more than ever, Olga wanted to know her sister; she wanted the two of them to be able to open up to each other.

Ultimately, she just wanted them to act like real sisters.

Another thing about the poems that surprised Olga was that they were _good_. All of the poems sounded like they were professional quality. Helga wrote in such a vivid way that Olga could really feel her passion and desire. It was like Helga locked all of her emotion away until she could release it onto the pages of her notebook. She had no idea her sister had such writing talent.

She stopped reading.

_It seems…there are a lot of things I don't know about Helga, _she thought sadly. _But…hopefully that will all change. As soon as you get home, Baby Sister, I'm going to…_

Olga put down the book.

_To what? Tell her I broke into her closet and read her most personal Say I violated her privacy, but I want her to trust me anyway? _Immediately, Olga closed the notebook. _I may know a little bit more about her now, but now I have no way to tell her. I'm not sure what to do. What will I say? What-_

Olga heard a knocking coming from the front door downstairs. For a moment, her heart felt like it stopped beating.

_Is that her now?_ she thought. But she realized that was silly. Why would Helga knock before coming in her own house?

Olga got up, straightened up the notebooks a bit, walked out the closet, and shut the door. She walked down the stairs, thinking about what to tell her sister.

_I need to talk to her. I want her to open up, to let her know she can come to me when she needs to talk, instead of keeping it all to herself, locked away in the closet? But how can she trust me when she knows I violated her privacy? There's got to be some way I can show she can trust me…but what?_

As Olga pondered this, more knocking came from the door. She opened the door and was shocked to see who was behind it.

_Arnold?! _she thought. Olga couldn't say anything. She just looked at the boy, like a deer staring at headlights.

Arnold stood in the doorway, looking down at the floor, as if he was embarrassed.

"Um…hi," said Arnold, almost in a whisper. "Can I…" He coughed. "Can I talk to Helga for a minute?"


	7. Chapter Seven: Genesis

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Seven: Genesis

* * *

"Umm…Olga?" said Arnold.

Olga blinked, realizing that she had stared at Arnold blankly for almost half a minute. The surprise of seeing him less than an hour after she saw a shrine of him caught Olga completely off-guard. She smiled, trying to cover up how stunned she was by this turn of events.

"Oh…sorry, I was just…thinking about something else for a minute," she said.

Arnold looked up at Olga, still looking nervous.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I was just wondering if I could talk to Helga for a bit."

"Oh," said Olga. "Well, I'm very sorry, but she's not here right now."

Arnold looked down at the ground, with a look of disappointment on his face.

"Oh…" he said. "Well…when you see her, could you tell her…" He paused for long time, as if searching for the right thing to say. Finally, he said, "Nevermind." He looked back up at Olga and spoke, trying to hide the obvious disappointment in his voice. "It was nice seeing you again, Olga."

He turned to walk away. Olga couldn't help but feel bad for Arnold. She had no idea what he wanted to talk to Helga about, but considering how disappointed Arnold looked, it must have been something important.

_And I'm sure Baby Sister would have been glad to talk to him too, _she thought. Olga remembered all the poems she had read. Helga had written page after page of poems, hoping that one day she could reveal her feelings for Arnold. Now, Arnold finally reached out to her and she wasn't here. _It just doesn't seem fair. Baby Sister needs this._

"Wait!" Olga yelled as Arnold started walking away. He turned to look back at her, startled a bit by the volume of her voice. Olga put her hand in front of her mouth, embarrassed. She had shouted without thinking what to say next. All she knew was she had to keep Arnold from leaving. Maybe it was the sad look in Arnold's eyes, the desire to make her sister happy, or both; but whatever the reason, Olga couldn't bear to see Arnold leave like this.

"Um…Arnold," Olga said, "Helga will probably be back in a little while so…why don't you just wait for her here?"

Arnold turned back, suddenly looking relieved.

"Really?" he said. "You sure that wouldn't be a problem?"

"Of course not," she said cheerfully. "Just make yourself at home."

Arnold walked back up to the doorway. He gave Olga a small smile.

"Thank you," he said as he went inside.

"Not a problem," she said. With a smile on her face, she shut the door.

_Oh, Baby Sister is going to be so happy when she gets home, _thought Olga. _I bet they'll get a whole lot closer after they get a chance to talk like this. And then Helga will be even happier. Maybe she'll be so happy about this that she finally will open up to me. Maybe I can even tell her what I did and she'd forgive me…maybe…_

Olga thought for a minute.

_Maybe I'm just deluding myself, _she thought. Even if this meeting does help bring Helga and Arnold a little closer, it doesn't change the fact that Olga violated her sister's privacy. She still had no idea how she'd be able to tell her about it. If Helga knew the truth, Olga feared she'd be furious and might never forgive her. However, keeping her actions secret would not change their relationship at all; they would remain as distant as they had ever been. Olga shook her head. For the first time in her entire life, Olga felt truly clueless about something.

She watched Arnold walk into the living room and sit down in a chair. He looked up at her, and Olga gave him a weak smile.

_Oh well,_ Olga thought, _even if it doesn't help us get closer, seeing Arnold might make her a little happy. And I'd love nothing more than to see her happy. Besides, maybe if I get a chance to talk to Arnold a little bit, I might figure out how to get closer to her._

Hiding her worries, Olga sat down on the living room couch and began to talk with Arnold.

* * *

Rhonda was not having a great day. Although she tried to not let little things get to her, it seemed that today she was getting bombarded with one annoyance after another. By the time she returned home from school, Rhonda was extremely irritated. Feeling the need to vent, she called Nadine, her best friend since fourth grade.

"Hi, Nadine," said Rhonda as soon as Nadine answered.

"Hey, Rhonda," said Nadine. "What's up?"

Rhonda groaned. "You will not believe the day I had," she said.

"Why? What happened?"

"Oh, you know how it is," said Rhonda, sitting down on her bed with the phone resting on her shoulder. "Just a lot of little things at once."

"Oh. Like what?"

"Well, it started this morning. I got dressed and went to get breakfast. And while I was eating, I accidentally spilt coffee all over my dress."

Rhonda heard Nadine pause.

"So?" Nadine said.

"_So?! _It was a brand new designer dress and I spilt coffee all over it! I had to go back and change my clothes and everything. It was quite frustrating."

"Your day was ruined…because you spilt something on your dress?"

"No, Nadine, it was more than that," said Rhonda, frustrated. "Do you really think I'm so vain that my whole day would be ruined just because of something like that?

Nadine was silent for a moment. "Is that a trick question?"

"Very funny," she said, not appreciating Nadine's teasing.

"Sorry, Rhonda," Nadine said, trying to stop herself from giggling. "So anyway, what happened after that?"

"Well after that, I got to the bus stop, and you could not believe how Helga was acting today. I just innocently ask if she can scoot over so I can sit down and she tells me to get lost."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Rhonda. In all honestly, she might have come off as slightly rude to Helga when she asked to sit down; after all, she was already frustrated over staining her dress. Still, it was no excuse for Helga to just snub her like that. Not only that, but minutes later, she moves over to allow Lila a place to sit right in front of Rhonda. She thought it was unfair of Helga to do that, and doing this right in front of her was just rubbing it in.

"I swear, sometimes that girl is so uncivilized," she continued. "After that, she just randomly shouted at Gerald about…something. I wasn't really paying attention. And then she gets mad and storms off the bus. Heh, what a psycho."

"Huh…that is pretty strange," said Nadine. "It seems like lots of people are acting…odd today."

Rhonda sat up, her curiosity peaked; as a socialite, Rhonda was attracted to gossip like a moth to a flame. "What do you mean?"

"Well…it's probably nothing," began Nadine, "but Gerald was acting pretty different today too."

"Really?" said Rhonda, lying down in the bed with the phone in her hand.

"Yeah. I sit nearby him in third period and…well, he just sorta seemed out of it today, like he had something on his mind. He didn't really talk or do anything; he just seemed...you know, there."

"Uh huh," said Rhonda, a bit disappointed. As gossip goes, Gerald acting a bit weird wasn't really that juicy.

"Well, I thought it was weird," said Nadine. "Especially since he always seems so cool and calm all the time. Phoebe looked concerned about it too."

"Oh, _of course_ she would," said Rhonda, sitting up. She giggled. "After all, you don't have to be a genius to see what's going on with _those_ two."

Nadine giggled nervously in reply. "Also," she said after a moment, "there was one other thing."

"Hm?" said Rhonda.

"Well…there's Arnold."

"What about him?"

"Well, he didn't show up to school," said Nadine.

Rhonda didn't say anything for a moment.

"So?" she said, failing to see anything odd about that.

"Well, it's just that he's almost never absent. Plus…I dunno, don't you think he's been acting a bit…down lately?"

"Huh?" said Rhonda. She thought for a second. "Oh…I don't know, maybe. I haven't really noticed."

_Although,_ thought Rhonda, _if he has been acting strange, that is pretty…well, strange._ After all, out of all of Rhonda's old friends, Arnold always seemed the most normal. Not only that, but he was always an optimist, looking on the bright side of every situation. Many of their friends ended up talking to Arnold for encouragement and advice, because he always seemed like a kind, level-headed person to talk to. So it was understandable why Nadine thought seeing Arnold looking depressed was a strange occurrence. Still, Rhonda felt Nadine was worrying a bit too much about it.

"Nadine, it's probably nothing," she said. "He probably just had a bad day or something. Or maybe he just got sick. I don't think it's anything serious."

"Well," said Nadine after a slight pause, "I guess you're probably right."

"Of course I am," she said. "Anyway, back to my day…" Rhonda continued to tell Nadine about the other things that had went wrong over the course of her day. She got a C- on a history test, almost missed the bus at the end of the day, forgot to meet her appointment with the stylist, and was unable to drop off a deposit in her savings account before the bank closed. "It was an absolutely horrible day," she said. "I had bad luck all day. I mean, who am I, _Eugene_?" Nadine absorbed all of Rhonda's ranting, then tried to comfort her with idle conversation. After about an hour of idle conversation, Rhonda said she had to go.

After hanging up the phone, Rhonda laid back on her bed. She felt a little better, but since all of her plans for the day had been ruined, she had nothing to do until dinner besides allowing her mind to drift. As her mind was drifting, she thought about what Nadine had said about Arnold and suddenly thought of something.

_Hey, that thing Helga went psycho about this morning…didn't it have something to do with Arnold? _She thought. She tried hard to remember what Helga had said to Gerald on the bus, but unfortunately, she could not recall anything. _Nah, no way. I mean, since when does Helga care about Arnold?_

Rhonda allowed her mind to wander more, not venturing back to the topic of Arnold. As far as Rhonda knew, the situation was not anything serious and certainly didn't have anything to do with her.

* * *

"Well," said Phoebe, shuffling through the papers, "I guess we should start at the beginning."

Helga listened as Phoebe cleared her throat. Phoebe closed her eyes. She seemed a little nervous, which wasn't surprising to Helga; Phoebe always did have to get even more timid than normal when all eyes were on her.

Helga looked at Phoebe and tried to force herself to listen to her story. If she allowed herself to think anymore about Arnold or her own fear, she thought she might have a panic attack.

_I need to focus on this, _thought Helga. _Worrying and getting a panic attack isn't going to help anybody. Especially not Arnold. I just need to relax. _Although, Helga knew that this was easier said than done. Restraining the urge to run to the bus driver and demand he drive faster towards Rhonda's place, she took a deep breath and listened closely to Phoebe.

"Well, in the beginning," said Phoebe as she opened her eyes to read the papers, "there was only the sky, the Sun, and the Moon. There was no life, except for the five gods. One day, the chief of the gods, Sol, called the four other gods to his alter."

"Sol?" asked Lila, who was also listening with great interest.

"Yes, Sol" said Phoebe, looking up from her papers. "He's the Green-Eyed People's sun god. Like many other ancient cultures, the Green-Eyes believed the sun god was the most powerful and the one responsible for the creation of the universe…well, mostly."

"Mostly?" asked Helga.

Phoebe smiled.

"You'll see." She went back to reading from the story. "Anyway, Sol called the other gods. There was the earth god Selva, the sky goddess Estrella, the water goddess Lluvia, and the moon goddess Luna. Sol sat on his throne. His body looked like a bright light in the shape of a man, with two glowing green eyes on his face.

"Once the other gods, sat down, he announced the reason for the meeting. He said that he wished to create a new world, to fill the great void in the Sky. However, he said that although his powers were great, he could not do it alone. He asked that all the gods present an offering that could aid him in the making of the world. And in return, he would share his rule over this world with them. Eventually, they sounded enthusiastic about the idea, except for Luna, who simply sat in the corner and smiled.

"Selva went first. He was a tall man wearing a long green cloak. He smiled politely as he walked before Sol. He reached in his cloak and pulled out a small, glowing green seed. He offered it to Sol and pledging his eternal loyalty to him. Sol simply gave a small smile and thanked him.

"Estrella, a beautiful maiden with bright sparkling eyes, went next. She walked up to Sol, full of dignity. She reached in her sparkling blue dress and pulled out a thousand sparkling jewels. She begged Sol to take them, to help make this new world as beautiful as she was. Sol nodded, smiled, and said he'd try his best to do."

As she listened to the story, Helga couldn't help but think that Estrella sounded like a very narcissistic person. _I mean, come on, _she thought, _"make this world as beautiful as I am?" How stuck up is that?...Heh, I bet she and Rhonda would get along just fine._

"As Estrella walked back to her seat," said Phoebe as she continued reading, "the other gods began to notice that Luna was starting to laugh quietly to herself. They were confused by this, but said nothing."

"Next, Lluvia went before Sol. She had the appearance of a small woman, and seemed intimidated by Sol's powerful appearance. After a moment of nervousness, Lluvia pulled out a golden cup, filled with clear water. She hesitantly gave it to Sol, unable to say a word. Sol smiled and told her that her gift made him very grateful."

_Heh, he shouldn't be, _thought Helga, now absorbed in the story. _I mean, this Sol guy is creating the universe and the only things he's given to help do that are a seed, some water, and costume jewelry. What a joke. They're gods! They can do more, so they should give more. They should do everything they can to help him, like…_

_Like I'm trying to do with Arnold, _thought Helga; as soon as the thought entered her mind, she cursed herself mentally for allowing herself to worry again. She shook her head. _Get a hold of yourself, Helga. Worrying about Arnold right now isn't going to help anything. You're not going to get your confidence up by thinking about how he might still be sad or crying or bitter or- STOP! Criminy, you're going to give yourself a heart attack. Just stop thinking about it. Just relax…relax…_

She took another deep breath and listened to Phoebe.

"As Sol made this comment to Lluvia," said Phoebe, "Luna's laughter grew very loud. Everyone in the alter turned to look at her. She began walking around the other gods, gazing into them with her mysterious, grey eyes. Her fine hair flowed behind her as she walked.

"To the surprise of the other gods, she began to criticize the gifts they had given. 'Your gifts are pathetic,' she said. 'If you think your offerings are enough for this world, you are mistaken. It is an insult to Lord Sol. Water, Sky, Earth...the world needs more than these things. It needs something that requires great power to create…something that you fools have overlooked entirely.'"

Helga looked over at Phoebe in disbelief. She hadn't expected something like that to happen in the story. What was even more amazing was that Luna seemed to think the same thing Helga had thought just moments ago. Even though she sounded rude, Luna was the character that made the most sense to Helga so far.

Lila looked down at the pages Phoebe had read.

"That Luna…" said Lila. "She sounds ever so mean."

Phoebe shrugged.

"Well, in a little bit, you'll see she has a point," said Phoebe. "They did need something that all the other gods had forgotten about."

"Still, she didn't need to be so mean about it."

Phoebe thought about it for a moment. "Well…maybe…but I don't think she's that bad. I think that sometimes she's just…misunderstood." Phoebe glanced in Helga's direction as she said this. Helga noticed this, but didn't say anything.

"So, what happened next?" said Helga, suddenly more interested in the myth.

Phoebe looked back at the papers.

"Well," she said, "obviously all the other gods were insulted and angry. They thought that Luna was mad to say such things in front of them. They all looked at Sol, except him to be furious at her. However, Sol just sat there, smiled, and said to Luna, 'And what is it you claim we overlooked?'

"Luna walked in front of him, bowed, and said 'It is simple, my lord. The thing they have overlooked is life.' To the shock of the other gods, Luna reached inside her chest and pulled out her heart, which seemed to glow brightly, as if radiating power. Acting as if she was in no pain at all, she held her heart out before Sol and said, 'Take my heart, Lord Sol, and use it to bring life to this world.'"

Although Lila seemed to cringe at the thought of someone tearing their own heart out, Helga couldn't help but think the gesture was romantic. Violent, yet dramatic. She began to wonder if Luna loved Sol the way Helga loved Ar-- but Helga stopped herself from thinking any further, knowing it would only inevitably lead to more worrying.

"Sol looked shocked for only an instant," continued Phoebe. "Then he smiled and said he'd honor her request. Luna returned to her seat, still looking uninjured. All the other gods were speechless.

"Sol dismissed the other gods and went to work. First, he took the jewels and scattered them throughout the Sky. The twinkling jewels became every star in the night sky. Next, he took the cup of water and poured it out. The water from the cup became all the seas of the world. He took the glowing seed and threw it into the water. Within seconds, all the earth, trees, grass, and plants of the world sprung out of it.

"Finally, Sol took Luna's heart. As he held it, he could feel all of her power and magic within it. He concentrated for a moment, placing a portion of his own magic within it, until the heart glowed green. It was the seed of life, and he called it the Corazon."

Helga's eyes widened in disbelief. She had heard of the Corazon before. In Miles's journal, he mentioned how he had stopped a river pirate named La Sombra from stealing the Corazon from the Green-Eyed People. Helga was shocked; she hadn't really wondered much about what the Corazon was, but she didn't expect it to be the glowing heart of a god.

_Not that it really is, _thought Helga. _After all it's just a story. _Even though Helga believed several things people considered farfetched (chief among them being that she could raise tens of thousands of dollars in one day for the boy she loved), she obviously didn't think any of the myth actually happened.However, the story did raise an interesting question in Helga's mind: if the Corazon that Miles got back for the Green-Eyes wasn't the glowing heart of a god, then what was it really?

"Sol took the Corazon and buried in the soil," continued Phoebe, turning to the next page of the story. "Its power flowed through the soil. The ground began to shake violently for just a minute. When the ground stopped shaking, a hand reached out of the soil. Emerging from the ground was a man with green eyes and Sol's mark upon his head. In his hands, he held a small green stone, which was all that remained of Corazon, with all of its power spent. Once he climbed out of the ground, a woman with green eyes and fine hair crawled out as well. They-"

"Umm…I'm sorry but…I'm ever so sure this is our stop," said Lila as the bus screeched to a stop.

Helga looked up as Phoebe collected her papers together and got out of her seat. Helga took a deep breath.

_Well, I guess this is it, _she thought. _Oh Arnold, my only light in this dark world of shadows…I only hope this works, for your sake. I-_

"Umm…Helga?"

Helga looked up to see Lila standing over her, looking concerned. Quickly realizing she probably looks vulnerable, Helga scowled.

"Yeah?" said Helga, getting up.

"I just…" Lila stopped and bit her lip, trying to find the right words. "I just want you to know that I'm going to do my best. So…don't worry ever so much." She smiled.

Helga got up from her seat without saying anything. She looked at Lila, once again reminded of how much the plan relied on her. Helga realized that Lila must also be feeling as nervous as she was. Helga gave Lila a weak smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, walking past Lila to the front of the bus. As she was about to step down to leave the bus, Helga got the strange feeling that she was being watched again. She glanced back briefly, seeing only Lila. She turned back around, certain that she was just being paranoid because of all the stress she was under.

Phoebe was already off the bus. Helga and Lila stepped off onto the sidewalk. Lila looked down the street.

"It's only a few blocks from here," said Lila.

Helga looked at Lila, then at Phoebe. She was still very nervous and afraid that her plan wouldn't work. She still thought there was a very high probability that she'd have a mental breakdown before this was over. However, as Helga looked at the friends she had helping her, she found herself with a bright glimmer of hope.

Hanging on to that hope, Helga said, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go"

* * *

After the girls had left the bus, Gerald got up from his seat. He felt rather ridiculous, since he had been keeping his head down in his seat the entire bus ride to make sure Helga and the others did not see him. He had gotten a few strange looks from the people sitting nearby, which made Gerald feel embarrassed. However, he supposed it was a good thing he went to such lengths, since Helga had almost seen him several times since he started following them at the bus stop. She had almost seen him in the alley when the girls boarded the bus. Once he boarded the bus at another stop close by, he could have sworn she saw him sneak into his seat near the front of the bus. Finally, she looked around once she got off the bus, as if she knew that Gerald was there. Gerald was thankful he wasn't caught, since she would probably get very suspicious, snap at him, and probably try to strangle him.

Unfortunately, since he had sat so far away from them, Gerald was unable to hear anything they were talking about, so he was still as lost as he was when he boarded the bus. He began to think that simply following them to wherever it was they were going might not be enough.

_I mean, I can't follow them everywhere they go, _he thought as he started to walk off the bus. _After all, what if I lose track of them? Or what if I get caught? Helga will probably think I'm stalking them or something…which I guess I sorta am, but that's beside the point. Then I'd probably get Phoebe mad at me too…no this isn't going to work._

Gerald began to realize that, if he really wanted to find out what Helga, Phoebe, and Lila were doing and what it had to do with Arnold, he had to confront them about it.

_But how? _he thought as he stepped off onto the sidewalk. He looked down the street and saw the girls walking a distance away. He followed. _I mean, if I ask Helga about it, I've got a feeling she'd just deny it or say I'm crazy or something. But Lila and Phoebe…maybe if I asked them about it when Helga's not around, they might tell me._

He thought back to earlier, when he had run into Phoebe and Lila. He remembered the look Phoebe had on her face when he asked if what they were doing had anything to do with Arnold. After that, she just denied it, although she seemed pretty nervous about it (as Gerald recalled this, he tried not to think about how cute Phoebe looks when she's nervous), and Lila didn't say anything.

After some thought, Gerald realized that confronting Phoebe about it would be his best bet. Phoebe and Gerald had been close friends for a long time; with the exception of Arnold, Phoebe was the friend Gerald trusted the most, and he was certain Phoebe trusted him in the same way. If he just explained to her how worried he was about Arnold, there was a good chance Phoebe would tell him a little about what they were doing. He didn't expect Phoebe to reveal the whole truth; after all, Phoebe had been friends with Helga for a long time (for God only knows what reason), and she wouldn't just betray her best friend's confidence.

But all Gerald wanted was just a little assurance that his best friend would get better. All he wanted was some information, any information at all, about what was wrong with Arnold, so Gerald could know everything would be okay. And it seemed like the only way he could that is by following them, getting Phoebe alone, and talking to her. After that, Gerald just had to hope for the best.

Knowing what he had to do and making sure he kept his distance, Gerald continued to follow the girls.

* * *

"Rhonda's house should be right up ahead," said Lila.

She walked with Helga and Phoebe down the sidewalk. She looked over at Helga, who hadn't said anything since they had left the bus stop. She looked like she was in a trance, as if she was completely focused on what was ahead of her.

Lila was nervous; she had never done anything like this before, so she couldn't help feeling a little anxiety. After all, asking a friend for tens of thousands of dollars wasn't exactly an everyday occurrence. What if Rhonda couldn't spare that much or she just didn't understand how much Helga and Arnold needed the money or-

Lila stopped herself.

_No, _she thought to herself sternly, _I can't think like that. This will work! It has to! I'm ever so certain of it. _She continued to think this to herself repeatedly, as if it was an incantation to drive away all doubt from her mind.

Not wanting to allow herself enough time to think more doubtful thoughts, she turned to Phoebe to talk about something else she had on her mind.

"Hey, Phoebe," said Lila.

Phoebe, who looked like she was deeply in thought, looked over at her.

"Yes, Lila?" she said.

"Umm…that story…I'm oh so sure you didn't get a chance to finish," she said. "How'd the rest of it go?"

"Wha…Oh right!" she said, as if she had completely forgotten about the story. She glanced at the papers in her hand. "Well, not that much happens after that. The man and the woman become the first Green-Eyed People, Sol names them, and they have many children, who all have green eyes. And that's where the Green-Eyes believe they originally came from. That's pretty much it."

"Oh," said Lila. "What were there names?"

"The girl's name was Novia and the man's name…um…let's see…" Phoebe looked over her papers, trying to refresh her memory.

Lila, who saw Rhonda's house just ahead, pointed to it.

"There it is," she said, pointing to the large, expensive-looking Victorian house in front of them. Helga looked up at the house. Phoebe looked up from her papers and started to look very nervous.

Helga looked at it for a minute, then gave a nervous smile.

"I guess this is it," she said. She looked back at Lila. "You should probably get ready."

Lila looked down, trying to mentally prepare herself for her conversation with Rhonda.

Snapping out of her brief nervousness, Phoebe went back to looking through the papers.

"Ah, there it is," said Phoebe. "Now I remember."

Lila broke out of her train of thought and looked over at Phoebe.

"Yes?" she said.

"The man in the story," said Phoebe. "His name was Vigil."

After Phoebe said this, Lila smiled, then tried to recover the thoughts she had before Phoebe's interruption. For a few minutes, all three of them stood there, trying to mentally prepare themselves for the enormous task before them.


	8. Chapter Eight: Helga and Rhonda

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Eight: Helga and Rhonda

* * *

"Helga?" said Lila.

Helga looked up quickly. Lila and Phoebe stood in front of her, both looking concerned and nervous. Without even realizing it, she had been thinking in silence for almost five minutes. All at once, Helga had tried to think of what she wanted to tell Lila before she went in to talk to Rhonda, the exact way to phrase what she wanted to tell Lila, what to do if it didn't work, how she'd be able to go on if it didn't work, and (despite herself) how horrible it would be for herself and Arnold if nothing worked; her mind was so full of things to worry herself about that she felt like it was about to burst.

"Helga?" said Lila again, when Helga didn't say anything.

"Yeah, what is it?" said Helga, a bit irritable from all the stressful thoughts going through her head.

Lila looked down, as if she was embarrassed. "Um…I'm ever so sorry to bother you with this…but…is there anything you want to say before I talk to Rhonda? I mean…I'm not even completely sure what we're getting money for…I mean, aside that it's for _him._"

"What? Oh…of course. Umm…right, sorry about that," said Helga. She put her hand to her head.

_Jeez, _she thought, _I've been so busy _thinking_ about what I want to tell her that I didn't realize I never actually _told_ her anything. Criminy, what's wrong with me? I really need to get a grip on this. Now is NOT the time to let nerves get to me._

Helga took a deep breath.

"Okay, Lila…here's what you need to know," she said. "When you talk to Rhonda, you need to tell her that the money is for…" Before Helga could say his name, the image of Arnold's downtrodden face at the pier flashed in her mind. She shook her head quickly and pushed the thought away. "That it's for _him_. And you need to tell her it's an emergency, and we need a lot of money to fix it. Tens of thousands of dollars, actually."

"But…what kind of emergency? You never told me…"

"It's…" Helga wanted to explain everything to her, but every time she was about to explain anything, the depressing image of Arnold appeared in her mind once again. She could almost feel herself shake.

Phoebe, obviously seeing that Helga was having trouble, spoke up.

"It's for a plane," said Phoebe quietly. "To San Lorenzo. It's where Arnold's parents were last seen. He's…he's trying to find them."

All of a sudden, a look of shock and sadness came on Lila's face. Her eyes began to tear up. Helga, knowing that this was not the time nor the place to cry, reached out for her. She hesitated for a moment then put her hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah…yeah, I know," said Helga quietly as Lila made a sniffling sound. Lila wiped the tears from her slightly reddened eyes.

"Listen," continued Helga, "I know it's going to be hard…but I don't want you to tell Rhonda about that if you don't have to. It's…it's sorta personal, you know?"

Lila nodded, then asked "How did you find out about it?"

When Lila said this, Phoebe got a quizzical look on her face.

"Hey…come to think of it, how _did_ you find out about it?" she asked. "You never really said anything about it."

Helga realized she hadn't and felt bad about not telling her friend the entire truth. Helga thought about the strange man on the bus who found Arnold's journal and gave it to her. She remember his strange words about how it was her "destiny" to find the journal. _Who the hell was that guy anyway? _She thought.

"It's a long story," Helga said. "I'll tell you later." She turned back to Lila. "Now…are you okay?"

Lila wiped a few lingering tears from her eyes. She nodded. Helga took her hand off of Lila's shoulder. She took another deep breath.

"Do you think you can do this, Lila?" said Helga.

Lila looked down at the ground for a moment, then looked up with a smile on her face.

"I'm oh so sure I can, Helga," she said.

Helga stared at Lila for a moment. She was astonished at how Lila could be obviously sad one moment and have a cheerful smile on her face the next. The only sign that she had been crying at all was the reddened area around her eyes. The smile was fake, but if Helga hadn't been there to see her cry, she wouldn't have been able to tell. And Lila always seemed to have a smile on her face. She began to wonder how often Lila's smile was genuine and how often it was fake. What if Lila faked optimism the same way that Helga faked coldness and anger? What if they really were more alike than Helga had ever thought?

_Well…I never thought I'd see the day, _thought Helga. _Ms. Perfect and I actually having some things in common…who knew?_

Helga gave Lila a weak smile.

"Okay…well…good luck," said Helga.

Lila nodded, with that fake cheerful smile on her face. She turned around and walked up to the door.

Phoebe pointed to a nearby empty trash can.

"We can wait over there," said Phoebe. Helga nodded in agreement, and they walked over to the trash can. Helga looked back to Rhonda's house. Lila knocked on the door and was greeted by Rhonda's mom, a middle aged woman wearing designer clothing. Lila said something to Rhonda's mom that Helga couldn't hear, and Rhonda's mom led her inside.

Helga let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Phoebe looked over at her.

"Are you okay?" said Phoebe.

"Yeah," said Helga. She paused for a moment. "Maybe."

Phoebe reached over and patted her friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks," said Helga, although it honestly did not help much.

Phoebe leaned on the garbage can. After a nervous pause, Phoebe finally said what was on her mind.

"Umm…Helga…do you wanna tell me how you found out about Arnold's…problem?"

Helga looked up at her friend.

"I mean…you don't have to tell me if you don't want to," said Phoebe without looking Helga in the eye. "But…" Phoebe trailed off, unable to think of what to say next.

Helga thought for a minute. Aside from Arnold, Phoebe was the only person Helga really trusted. She honestly felt bad about neglecting to tell her the whole truth before. Phoebe had done so much to help her already; it was only right that she know the whole story.

"Okay, Feebs," said Helga. "I'll tell you…"

* * *

"More tea?" said Olga to Arnold, holding a pot of chai tea.

"Yes, thank you," said Arnold politely. Olga smiled, poured him another cup, and continued their conversation.

When Arnold had first been invited in by Olga, she insisted on making him tea, which Arnold thought was a nice gesture. It was easy for Arnold to see that Olga was a genuinely kind person, even though he had only met her a few times. She always seemed to have a smile on her face and she was always more than willing to help people.

After she made the tea, they had shared a long, awkward silence. Arnold was far too preoccupied with his own thoughts about what to say to Helga when she finally arrived. For a while, Arnold thought Olga simply did not want to bother him, but then he noticed something strange; for some reason, Olga seemed to have something on her mind as well. She would stare with a vaguely blank look on her face and, as soon as she noticed Arnold was looking at her, she would flash a pleasant smile. It seemed obvious to Arnold that something must be bothering her. After a while, Arnold became concerned and asked her if she was alright. Although Olga insisted she was fine, Arnold had his doubts.

After he asked this, Olga became more talkative. They made small talk at first, talking about the weather, the news, and other things like that. Olga would talk about how it was in Alaska when she was a teacher there, and Arnold would tell her about how school was going. Olga was a nice person to talk to, and it was good to actually have a normal conversation with somebody today.

However, although Arnold enjoyed talking to Olga, he really wished Helga would come home soon. He had so much that he really needed to talk to her about. Occasionally, Arnold would quickly glance over to the front door, hoping Helga would come in the second he looked there.

"And that's when I decided to fly back here, to try to find a new full time teaching position," said Olga, explaining why she was back in town. "I don't have my own place yet, but I did see this delightful apartment up the street that-" She noticed that Arnold was glancing back to look at the front door. Arnold looked back and noticed that Olga was staring at him. She gave him a weak smile. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Right," said Arnold, trying not to sound dejected. He picked up his cup to take another sip of tea. "Where is Helga anyway?"

"Oh, she went out somewhere with Phoebe and Lila," said Olga.

Arnold paused. He stopped drinking from his cup and put it down for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I must have heard you wrong," said Arnold. "I thought you said she went out with Lila."

"I did," said Olga, nodding. "They've been out for about half an hour now."

Arnold stared at Olga.

"Helga…with Lila?" asked Arnold. "Are you…sure?"

"Yep," said Olga. "Actually, Lila and I were supposed to have dinner, but then she went out with Helga and Phoebe to do…something, I'm not sure what. It is nice to see them getting along." She took another sip of tea while Arnold just stared at her. Olga looked back up at him. "What's wrong? Is it really that strange?"

_Other than the fact that it's the least likely thing to happen ever, no, it's not that strange, _thought Arnold. _I always thought Helga didn't like Lila. She always seemed to hate her when we were kids, for whatever reason. Well…I guess it was because I had a crush on Lila, and Helga always had…those feelings. _Arnold became aware of the fact that his face was getting red. He looked up at Olga, who was staring at him quizzically.

"Umm…no, I guess it's not that strange," lied Arnold, who had began to wonder what could have possibly compelled Helga to go out somewhere with Lila.

Olga looked up, remembering something. "Arnold…is everything going alright with Helga in school?"

"As far as I know," said Arnold. "Why?"

"I just remembered some guidance counselor from the school showed up a while ago. Mister…umm…" She thought for a minute. "Oh right, Mr. Vigil. I was just wondering if you knew Helga was going through anything."

"No, everything's fine as far as I know," said Arnold. Weirdly enough, Arnold couldn't remember any guidance counselor at the school named Mr. Vigil; however, the name _did_ sound vaguely familiar, so maybe he had seen him before and simply forgotten.

Arnold glanced over at the door again. He decided to take a risk and ask Olga a question that had been on his mind for a while.

"Er…how is Helga doing today anyway?" asked Arnold. Ever since he had spoken to Helga this morning, he had been wondering if Helga had become worried or stressed out. Arnold truly hoped that he hadn't caused Helga much stress just because of his strange, unknown reason to tell her everything about his problems.

For some reason, Olga looked a bit shocked by the question. She looked down and poured herself another cup of tea.

"I…really wouldn't know," said Olga.

"Oh…sorry," said Arnold, realizing that might not have been a good question to ask Olga. From what Arnold had seen, Helga had never gotten along with Olga, and Arnold had a feeling that that fact made Olga very sad.

"It's okay," said Olga, smiling weakly. She stared into her cup of tea, deep in thought. She remained silent for almost a whole minute. Arnold looked at her, wondering why she suddenly seemed preoccupied again. He wondered if he had said something wrong or accidentally reminded Olga of whatever was bothering her before.

"So, Arnold," she said quietly, "what exactly did you want to talk to Helga about?"

Arnold felt his face go from red to pale within seconds.

"Well, um…it's sorta…er…personal…" he said. He stammered, trying to think of something to say, while Olga just stared at him, with an odd look in her eye. Although Arnold wasn't sure why, something about the look in her eyes made her seem sad.

"If…if there's something bothering you, Arnold," she said quietly, "you can tell me. I'm a good listener."

"Umm…"

Arnold looked at Olga, who still had that sad look in her eyes. Arnold felt bad that he couldn't tell her what his problem was, but he knew he wouldn't feel comfortable talking about such personal matters with her. But he knew that he had to say _something_, but he didn't know what.

As Arnold was about to say something, he heard the door creak open. He quickly looked over, hoping that it was Helga. Unfortunately, it was not. Standing in the doorway was the hulking body of Big Bob Pataki.

"Hi, Daddy," said Olga, with all traces of the sadness gone from her expression.

Big Bob walked into the living room.

"Hello, Olga," he said, grinning. He noticed Arnold was there and his grin became a frown.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Olga, gesturing to Arnold. "This is one of Helga's friend. He's just waiting for her to get home."

Big Bob gave Arnold a suspicious, angry look. Arnold had difficulty telling if he was really angry or if he just looked like that all the time.

"Do I…know you?" said Bob.

Arnold stared at Bob in disbelief.

"Yes, we've met before," said Arnold. "Lots of times, actually."

Bob simply stared at Arnold.

"I've known Helga for almost ten years now," he said, unable to believe it had really been that long. "I helped make a float for you for the parade when I was in fourth grade...you and my grandpa played golf once…remember?"

Bob looked Arnold up and down for a moment, then put his hand to his forehead.

"Oh right, I remember," he said. "You're…Artie, right?"

"Arnold," he said, trying not to sound angry. Arnold had never really cared for Big Bob. He always seemed uncaring and insensitive. Not only that, but he always seemed to completely neglect Helga; he would often even call her "Olga" by mistake, much to Helga's annoyance. Arnold had a good feeling that his neglect was a big part of why Helga seemed so irritable and anti-social.

Although, Arnold supposed he owed some thanks to Big Bob, since his entrance had stopped Olga from asking why he had come to see Helga.

"Right, right," said Big Bob. He turned away from Arnold. "Where's Miriam?"

"She went out a while ago," said Olga. "Oh, and I can't cook tonight, since I'm eating out with Lila…whenever she gets here."

"Ah, for crying out loud…" he muttered under his breath. "Well, I guess I gotta go order Chinese for dinner…again." He walked over to the kitchen and picked up the phone.

Arnold couldn't help but notice that Big Bob did not ask where Helga was. He probably didn't even notice. _What did Helga do to deserve a dad like him, _he thought. _Some father he is. _As soon as he thought of the word "father," he pictured his own father's face, much to his horror. He felt his face get paler.

Olga sat down and looked back at him, with a smile on her face. But somehow, Arnold knew that what was bothering her earlier was still eating away at her. Arnold honestly wished there was something he could do to help, but that was unlikely.

He looked back at the front door.

_Where are you, Helga? _he thought.

* * *

Gerald stopped running once he reached the edge of the alley. He had followed the girls to the area, then ran through several alleyways to make sure they didn't see him. He wondered when he had become so good at sneaking around, then briefly wondered if being skilled at following people around unnoticed was really a good thing.

_It doesn't matter_, he thought. _Maybe now I'll be able to find out what's going on with Arnold…or maybe I'll find out I'm just really really paranoid and I'm doing this all for no reason. One or the other._

He peaked his head around the corner of the alley and was surprised to see Helga and Phoebe standing very close by, leaning against a trash can. Gerald quickly ducked back behind the alley, his heart beating fast; he hadn't counted on being so close to them. He didn't think they saw him, but he noted that he had to be careful. Gerald didn't want them to see him, at least not until he could speak to Phoebe alone.

_Hey, wait a minute, _said Gerald, quickly peaking around the corner again. _Where's Lila? _He looked around quickly, but could not see her anywhere.

"Damn," whispered Gerald. After seeing Lila was no longer with them, he got the feeling that, in his effort to remain undetected, he had missed something important.

_Oh well, _thought Gerald as he paced in the alley, _hopefully Phoebe will clear this all up soon anyway._

As Gerald stopped to try to think about what the girls could possibly be doing in this area, he heard Helga's voice, although he could not make out what she was saying. Gerald crept back to the edge of the alley to try to hear what she was saying. Unfortunately, the only word he could make out was "journal."

He peaked around the corner. He saw Phoebe with an shocked look on her face, while Helga had a look on her face that Gerald did not comprehend right away. He looked away, then looked back to make sure he had seen what he thought he saw. To Gerald's amazement, Helga looked truly sad.

_Whoa, _thought Gerald_. Never thought I'd see that. Helga…Helga G. Pataki…looking sad. _Gerald had known Helga since kindergarten, and as far as he remembered, Helga had always acted like nothing ever got to her. She always seemed angry, tough, and cold It had always made Gerald wonder how someone like Phoebe, who is very open and nice, could be friends with someone like Helga. It also made him wonder why Arnold always put up with her, even though she had made fun of him and picked on his since grade school (although, for some reason, Helga seemed to tease him less brutally since the end of fourth grade). Now that Gerald actually saw her sad, Gerald wasn't sure what to think. That girl was a mystery.

He pushed these thoughts out of his head and tried to focus on listening to their conversation, although he had a hard time following what they were talking about now.

"And that man just gave the journal to you?" he heard Phoebe say.

"Yeah," said Helga. "Said he found it on the seat and wanted me to return it. But then he got really…weird about it."

"Weird how?"

Helga paused for a second. "He started saying stuff like…it was my 'destiny' or something. And he knew my name too. It was very weird."

"Helga, this is _very_ serious! You should have told me about this."

"I'm sorry."

"Who was he?"

"I don't know, he never said his name," said Helga. "But …as soon as I get this taken care of, I'm gonna try to find him…and find out why he's been following Arnold."

Gerald almost gasped. The fact that Helga mentioned this proved that Arnold was somehow involved in whatever they were doing, which meant that Gerald wasn't just being paranoid. However, now he had more pressing concerns.

_Following Arnold? _thought Gerald. _Who's following Arnold? _He continued listening. Their voices had gotten quieter, so they became harder to hear. He only picked out a few random words, like "miles," "green eyes," "read," "blank pages," and "pier." Gerald only picked up the last part of what Helga said.

"So then I returned it to him," said Helga, "and…well, he seemed pretty depressed and…he pretty much told me everything. And…that's about it."

Gerald felt like his jaw was going to hit the ground. Gerald was sure that Helga was talking about Arnold, which made Gerald even more confused.

_So, he was depressed, _thought Gerald, _but he told _her_ about it. _He remembered how, hours ago, he took Arnold aside and asked him why he was feeling down, but Arnold would not say. He said it was something he had to deal with himself. But apparently, he told Helga everything. Gerald felt himself get angry.

_I'm his best friend and he didn't tell me what was going on, _he thought._ But he told someone like her? Why? Why wouldn't he tell me when I knew I was worried about him, but go ahead and tell Helga G. Pataki? Why?!_

Realizing he might be jumping to conclusions, Gerald tried to calm down. He tried to think about what else Helga had said, trying to figure out what they were doing.

_Wait…since when does Helga care about Arnold anyway? _He thought. _Why would she care if he's depressed. And what was it she 'returned' to him anyway? And what's this about a guy following Arnold?_

Gerald leaned against the wall of the alley. Listening to their conversation had given Gerald more questions than answers. Despite his better judgment, he tried to listen for anything else they were saying, but now Helga and Phoebe were silent.

After five minutes of silence, Phoebe said, "I'm sure Lila will pull it off."

"Yeah…yeah, I hope so," said Helga.

After that, Gerald heard nothing but silence.

* * *

Rhonda laid down upon her bed, allowing her mind to wander. She had tried to think of something else to do, but it was no use. Her plans for today had been destroyed.

_It's so disappointing, _she thought, picking her nails. _I had so much planned for today. Now I'm just laying here. Boring. _She yawned. _Maybe I should just go to the mall or…something, I dunno._

Just as she was about to get up from her bed and go out to find something, _anything _to do, she heard a knock on her bedroom door.

She looked up from the bed.

"Hello?" she called out. A familiar voice answered.

"Um…it's me," said Lila from behind the door. "Can I come in?"

Rhonda smiled, glad to have some company; it certainly beat sitting around, doing nothing.

"Of course, come in," said Rhonda cheerfully. The door creaked open slowly and Lila slipped in. "It's so good to see you," Rhonda said.

"Yeah…I'm ever so sure I'm glad to see you too, Rhonda," said Lila, in a subdued voice.

"Great," said Rhonda, sitting on the edge of the bed to put on her designer shoes on. "I've had such a bad day before you came along. I'll tell you all about it later." She looked up at Lila smiling. "You feel like going to the mall? I think if I don't get out of this house I might go crazy."

"Um…actually, Rhonda…I'm afraid I don't have time to today."

Rhonda raised an eyebrow. Now that she actually stopped to look at Lila, Rhonda noticed Lila was acting odd. Her voice seemed very restrained. She had a smile on her face, but something about her smile seemed…different; Rhonda couldn't figure out why, but the smile seemed less vibrant than it normally did. Also, for some reason, her eyes were glued to the floor. Rhonda thought this was slightly odd, since Lila wasn't usually shy. It might not be anything serious, but Lila seemed to have something on her mind.

"Something on your mind, Lila?" said Rhonda, curious.

Lila stared at the floor saying nothing for so long that Rhonda almost thought she hadn't heard the question. When she finally looked back up at Rhonda, there was a serious look in her eyes.

"Could I…ask you something?" she asked.

Rhonda put her shoes down and crossed her legs, now giving Lila her undivided attention.

"Of course," said Rhonda.

"It's…it's a very important question."

"Okay," said Rhonda, now very curious about what was on Lila's mind. "What is it?"

"Could…" began Lila, but then stopped and scratched behind her neck. "This is a tad sudden but…do you think it might be possible for me to…borrow some money?"

Rhonda smiled.

"Oh, is that all?" said Rhonda. She got up from the bed and walked to her desk to reach for her purse. "You shouldn't be so nervous to ask for some money. I mean, we _are_ friends. You really had me worried there for a minute. So, how much do you need? Like twenty dollars?"

"I…don't think you understand," said Lila, slowly. "It's a…bit more than that."

Rhonda turned back to her.

"Well, how much?"

"Well," said Lila, trying to sound confident. "I need more like…tens of thousands of dollars."

Rhonda stared at Lila for a minute. Lila looked straight back into Rhonda's eyes. Suddenly, Rhonda started giggling. The giggle soon transformed into intense laughter. She doubled over, laughing so hard that her sides began to hurt.

"Oh man," she said, still laughing. "That's a good one, Lila. I really needed a good laugh too." She tried to regain her composure. "Wow, I haven't heard you tell a good joke like that in a while. You seemed so serious too. You really got me good."

However, when she looked back up, Lila still had a serious look on her face. She seemed a bit agitated now.

"I'm ever so certain this isn't a joke, Rhonda," said Lila. "This is serious."

Rhonda judged Lila's expression. She seemed serious, but she couldn't possibly be serious. After all, she was asking for tens of thousands of dollars. If this really was a joke, it was starting to become less and less funny.

"Hehe, good one," said Rhonda, no longer laughing. "And what would you possibly need that much money for?"

"Well, _I _don't really need it," said Lila. "It's not for me."

"Well," said Rhonda, not thinking this was funny anymore, "who is it for?"

"Umm…" said Lila, hesitating. "Well…it's for…Arnold."

"_Arnold_?" said Rhonda, confused.

"Yes," said Lila. "Arnold has been going through a very tough time and…I'm ever so certain he needs help. And…well, you're the only one I know who has enough money to help."

"What would _Arnold_ ever need _that_ much money for?"

"It's for-" Lila stopped suddenly. She looked back down at the floor. "It's…very personal. I shouldn't tell you." She looked back up at Lila, with a pleading look in her eye. "But it's ever so serious. You just have to believe me."

Rhonda sat back down on the bed, thinking this over.

_What is she, crazy? _thought Rhonda._ Asking for that much money, just to give to Arnold for some reason that she won't even tell me? She just _cannot _be serious. _Rhonda recalled what Nadine had said to her on the phone earlier about Arnold acting "weird." Rhonda thought it was possible Lila was worried about whatever the cause of his strange mood was. Perhaps too worried._ I mean, even if this isn't a joke, maybe she's just overreacting, _she thought._ Really, really overreacting. Maybe she's just not thinking clearly._

Rhonda walked over to Lila. "Lila," she said, putting her hands on her shoulders and speaking to Lila as if she were a child, "do you think that maybe you're just…overreacting a bit?"

To Rhonda's horror, Lila almost looked on the verge of tears.

"Rhonda…I'm serious…you just have to believe me," said Lila.

Rhonda stared at Lila and, for a moment, she couldn't think of anything to say. Finally, she spoke in a slow, calm voice.

"Listen…Lila," said Rhonda. "I know you might not want to hear this, but I think that maybe, just maybe, you're making too much of a big deal out of this."

"But-" Lila began, but Rhonda interrupted her.

"Look, I've heard Arnold has been acting a little odd lately, but I'm sure it's nothing to get all upset about. I'm sure that in a few days he'll be his own, overly optimistic self again."

"No, Rhonda, this really is ser-"

"And besides," said Rhonda, looking at Lila with pity, "even if Arnold really did need that much money, I wouldn't be able to do anything. My parents may be rich, but I don't have very much money at all." Rhonda knew that was not entirely true, but since Rhonda thought Lila was just overreacting, she thought it was a good idea to withhold that information; besides, she really did not have the astronomical amount of money Lila was asking for.

"But," Lila stammered, "but surely there must-"

"Lila, maybe you just need to lie down for a while," said Rhonda with her arm on Lila's shoulder, leading her to the door. "You know, take a rest, think things over. I'm sure this will all look better in the morning."

Lila looked like she was about to say something, but could not find the words. Rhonda opened the door.

"And, hey, if you're still feeling a little…you know…off tomorrow, just talk to me," said Rhonda, as she lead Lila out the door. "But _really_, Lila, I'm sure this is much less serious than you're making it out to be. I'm sure that later you'll see that."

"I…I'm oh so sure I don't agree with you, Rhonda," said Lila, with honest anger in her eyes.

Rhonda gave a small smile out of pity, then walked back into her room.

"Trust me, Lila," said Rhonda. "I'm usually right about this sort of thing. I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest, okay? Bye bye."

"But-" Lila said in a quiet, faltering voice as Rhonda slowly shut the door. Lila stared at the door for a moment, her mind trying to comprehend what had just occurred, before turning to walk down the hall.

Rhonda leaned against the door, thinking.

"Well…that was just _weird_," said Rhonda to herself. She walked back to her bed and started to put her shoes on.

_Well, hopefully a good night's sleep will do her good,_ thought Rhonda. _I mean really…I almost thought she was going crazy there for a minute. Ah well, I'm sure she'll be alright soon enough._

* * *

Phoebe leaned against the trashcan, looking at Rhonda's house and waiting for Lila to come out. She tried not to worry about how Lila was doing with Rhonda, but failed. She looked over at Helga, who was also staring at the house, like she was in a trance. Phoebe bit her lip. Even though she was nervous, Phoebe knew that her anxiety was nothing compared to what her friend must be feeling. They had been waiting in silence for over fifteen minutes. Phoebe knew that she should say something to comfort her friend, but she could think of nothing.

Phoebe sighed. She wondered if Lila really would convince Rhonda to help them. Obviously, Phoebe _hoped_ that Lila would succeed, so that Helga could use the money to help Arnold. Arnold would be grateful to Helga, and Helga would be so happy. They would go to San Lorenzo and, who knows, maybe Arnold's parents really were alive and they would return home with Arnold. And they would live happily ever after. A nice, happy ending.

Phoebe wished she could believe that would happen. However, despite how much Phoebe tried not to think about it, she couldn't help but have doubts. Even when she helped formulate the plan, even when she helped Helga with the plan every step of the way, even when she repeatedly tried to reassure Helga that everything would be okay, there was always a part of her mind that said, "This won't work. Rhonda won't give us that much money. Nobody would. This won't work." As much as she tried to push that thought away, it always lingered in the back of her mind. She knew it was hypocritical and she wished that she could just believe wholeheartedly that the plan would work, like Lila seemed to. But no matter how hard she tried, Phoebe couldn't shake the terrible fear that they were fighting a losing battle.

After what seemed like an eternity, Phoebe saw the front door of Rhonda's house open. Helga straightened up, instantly alert. Lila walked out slowly, her eyes fixed upon the ground. As soon as Phoebe saw this, she felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She knew right away that her worst fears had come true. The agonized expression on Lila's face said it all.

Lila walked up to them, still unable to look them in the eye. Helga stared at Lila.

"Well?" said Helga, quietly.

Lila looked up. "I…Rhonda…she…" Suddenly, Lila's eyes began to tear up. She buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she said, trying not to sob.

Phoebe put a hand on Lila's shoulder. As she tried to offer some small consolation to Lila, she looked back at Helga and was truly shocked by what she saw. Phoebe had expected Helga to be angry, depressed, or some mixture of both, but, from what Helga could see, she was not. To Phoebe's surprise, Helga didn't seem to react at all. She did not say or do anything. The expression on her face wasn't sad or angry; it just seemed empty, as if she had no feelings whatsoever. That expression disturbed Phoebe more than any other reaction could have.

"Umm…Helga," said Phoebe, "are you okay?"

Helga did not say anything. She looked from Phoebe to Lila, then looked back at the house. After a moment of thought, she nodded and walked past Phoebe and Lila towards Rhonda's house.

"Wait, Helga, what are you doing?" said Phoebe.

"I'm going to have a little talk with Rhonda. That's all," she said without stopping. Phoebe took her hand of Lila's shoulder and walked after her. Lila hesitated for a moment, wiped the tears from her eyes, and followed.

Phoebe wasn't exactly sure what Helga was feeling right now, but she did know that having her talk to Rhonda in this state would probably be a very bad idea.

"Helga, are you sure this is a good idea?" said Phoebe. "Maybe we should just stop and think of a new-"

"No," said Helga as she reached the front door. "I have to do this."

"Helga!" said Phoebe, raising her voice without meaning to. Helga turned back, her expression unchanged. "Helga…please…don't do anything…rash"

Helga looked at Phoebe for a moment, then said, "Look, I'm just going to talk to her. Everything is gonna be okay."

"But Helga…"

"_Everything_ is going to be _okay,_" said Helga as she opened the door and stepped inside. "Trust me." She shut the door in front of Phoebe.

Phoebe wasn't sure was about to happen. She hoped that, like Helga said, everything would be okay, but all she could think of was that cold, unfeeling expression on Helga's face before she went inside the house.

* * *

As soon as Helga stepped through the door of Rhonda's house, she knew that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

She walked down the hallway, trying to remember which room was Rhonda's; this was proving difficult, since she had not been to Rhonda's house since fourth grade. As Helga searched, she tried to wrap her mind around what had just happened.

When Lila had broken the news to her, Helga felt as if something within her had been suddenly shattered. All of her plans, her efforts, her _hope_ had suddenly seemed to be all for nothing. For a brief moment, she felt like she wanted to tear the world apart and fall down in the street crying at the same time. For just one second, she felt completely insignificant and that nothing she did truly matters. Helga felt like she should just give up.

But she didn't. When she had felt like everything was hopeless, she found the one thing in her heart that she knew she could count on: Arnold. He was the first person who ever noticed her. He was the only boy Helga had ever loved or ever wanted to love. He was the kindest, gentlest boy she had ever known, and he was the reason why she was doing all of this.

She could not allow herself to give up now, not as long as Arnold needed her. Helga knew that she would not give up until she truly believed that there was nothing she could do. So, without even thinking, she had walked into Rhonda's house, feeling nothing except for the simple drive to do everything she could. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to Rhonda. She wasn't sure if she really hoped to accomplish anything by talking to Rhonda herself or if she just wanted to vent at Rhonda. There was so much on Helga's mind that she wasn't sure of anything, except that she just had to try.

Helga finally found Rhonda's room. As soon as she saw the door, she knew that Rhonda's room was just beyond it. She had expected to feel nervous, but she did not; she just accepted that this was something she had to do.

_Well, here goes everything, _she thought. She raised her fist to the door and knocked twice.

"Lila? Is that you?" yelled Rhonda from behind the door.

"Nope, don't think so," said Helga, surprised at how casual she could sound, considering the circumstances. Maybe she was becoming a stronger person. Or maybe she had simply become so crazy that she wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel anymore. Helga wasn't quite sure which.

She heard movement behind the door. The knob turned and the door swung open, revealing Rhonda. The brief look of confusion on Rhonda's face became one of anger as soon as she saw Helga. Helga decided to take a lesson from Lila and put a fake smile on her face.

"Hello Rhonda," said Helga with fake enthusiasm, even though a large part of her would have like nothing more than to wring Rhonda's neck.

"What are _you_ doing here?" said Rhonda. Apparently Rhonda was still irritated at Helga for her actions this morning. _Figures_, thought Helga. _She was always one to let the stupidest things get to her._

"I just thought we could have a little talk," said Helga, walking in Rhonda's room.

"About what?" said Rhonda, obviously not appreciating how Helga walked into her room uninvited.

"So, did Lila pay you a little visit just now?"

Rhonda looked confused for a minute.

"Wait, how did you-" she began, then she realized something. "Oh, don't tell me that you have something to do with all the crazy stuff she was talking about?"

Helga, who had been trying to remain calm, felt anger rise inside her once Rhonda referred to her noble efforts to save the love of her life as crazy. She felt her hand ball into a fist, but she took a deep breath and relaxed.

"Well…you could say that," said Helga, feeling a bit calmer, but no longer smiling. "Lila said how it went when she talked to you, so I thought I could help you reconsider."

"Oh, so now you're freaking out about all this too?" said Rhonda, honestly shocked. "I mean…this is just…am I the only sane person left on Earth?!"

Helga raised an eyebrow and tried not to get angry.

"What do you mean?" said Helga.

"I mean, this is really getting ridiculous," said Rhonda. "First Lila asks me for over ten thousand dollars to help Arnold for some reason, just because he looks a little depressed, and now this. Well, what are you going to ask for? A million? More than that?" She laughed humorlessly. "I mean, it's just crazy. I thought it was Lila was just overreacting, but now you're saying the same thing. It feels like everybody has gone completely nuts. I mean…are you guys really serious?"

Helga felt her hand become a fist again, but she did nothing to stop it. Rhonda's attitude was really beginning to enrage Helga.

"You think this is a joke?" said Helga, holding back the huge amount of rage that was building inside of her.

"What am I supposed to think?" said Rhonda. "I've got no idea what's wrong with you two. I'd expect this kind of thing from _you_, but how you got Lila all worked up about this is beyond me. And, frankly, I've had a hard day and don't feel like putting up this."

That was the last straw for Helga.

"_You've _had a hard day?!" said Helga, raising her voice. "You think you've had a hard day?" She walked up to Rhonda and glared at her. "Let me tell you something, you have no idea what I've had to go through. What Arnold's had to go through. And if you'd actually listen to somebody besides yourself for a change, you might see that. You think this is a joke? Well, guess what? _I'm not laughing_!"

"Don't yell at me," said Rhonda. She was trying to hold her ground, but she was obviously taken aback by Helga's outburst. "You can't just come in her, demand money, and yell at me in my own house."

"I wouldn't have to yell at you if you'd just _listen _instead of acting like such a pretentious bitch," said Helga.

"What did you just call me?!"

"Oh, you heard that? Good, maybe now you'll be able to hear me."

"I'm not listening to anything you say, you freaking psycho."

"I'm just trying to do the right thing."

"I wouldn't call shouting at me like a crazy person the right thing, Helga."

"I'm just trying to help Arnold!"

"Oh, since when do you give a damn about Arnold anyway?"

Without a single thought, without even realizing what she was doing, Helga slapped Rhonda hard in the face. The instant it happened, Helga snapped out of her rage. She looked at what she had just done and stared at her reddened hand in horror.

_I did not just do that, _thought Helga. _Please tell me I did _not_ just do that!_

She looked down at Rhonda, who looked up at her. Her cheek was red. There was no longer a look of anger on her face; there was only a look of utter shock at what had just happened.

"I…I…" said Helga, trying to say something, but she knew it was no use. In one glorious act of stupidity, she had ruined everything. All the hope that Helga had clung to for dear life had been destroyed by her own hand. Rhonda would never help them now, all because Helga lost her temper. They could never help Arnold now, and Helga had nobody to blame but herself.

Rhonda didn't say anything. She just stared up at Helga, shocked. Without saying another word, Helga ran down the hall and out the door.

As soon as she left, Rhonda felt the red mark on her cheek, and she honestly had no idea what to think anymore.

* * *

Phoebe was surprised to see Helga come out of Rhonda's house after just five minutes. She was even more surprised to see Helga run out the front door like the house was on fire. Helga's face looked pale, as if she had seen something horrific.

Phoebe walked up to her friend as she came down the stoop. Lila, looking very concerned as well, followed behind her.

"Helga, what's wrong?" said Phoebe.

Helga seemed unable to look Phoebe in the eye.

"I…blew it," said Helga, so quietly that Phoebe had to strain her ears to hear it.

Phoebe frowned. She couldn't imagine how hard this must be for her friend. She put her hand on Helga's shoulder.

"It…it's okay, Helga."

Helga looked up at Phoebe with a scowl on her face.

"It's okay?" said Helga. "_It's okay?! _No, Feebs, it is not okay! I screwed up. I…couldn't do anything. And now, Arnold…" She said nothing after that. She shrugged off Phoebe's hand and started walking down the sidewalk quickly. Phoebe and Lila looked at each other, confused and worried. They followed after Helga.

"Helga, where are you going?" said Lila.

"Home," said Helga, without looking back.

"What do you mean?" said Phoebe, almost stumbling over as she tried to keep up with Helga. "What are we going to do now?"

Helga stopped and turned around. She glared at Phoebe with tears in her eyes.

"You just don't get it do you?!" said Helga, with tears dripping down her face. "That's it! We're done! It's over!"

"Helga…" said Phoebe, but she couldn't think of anything else to say after that.

"Just…just leave me alone, okay?!" said Helga, angrily wiping the tears from her eyes. "Just leave me alone!"

Helga turned and walked off. Phoebe looked down at the sidewalk. She wanted to follow Helga and make sure she was alright, but Helga seemed inconsolable right now. Phoebe desperately tried to think of something she could have said to Helga to make her feel better, but she could think of nothing. After all, what could you possibly say to someone who felt like their dreams had been crushed?

Phoebe looked over at Lila, who stared out as Helga disappeared into the distance. Lila looked at Phoebe with a deeply concerned look on her face. After a moment, she ran after Helga.

"Helga, wait!" she shouted.

Phoebe wondered what Lila was going to say to Helga, before she realized that Lila probably did not have any idea what she was going to say herself. But she was going after Helga anyway. Phoebe cursed herself. She should be running after her friend too and all she could do was stand there while everything crumbled around her. She felt tears come into her eyes. She took off her glasses and tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

"Um…hey."

Phoebe turned around quickly after hearing the voice behind her. She was shocked to see who it was. It was the last person she expected to see right now.

"Hey," said Gerald again once she turned around. He looked very uncomfortable and nervous. "Umm…are you okay?"

Phoebe realized she was still crying and quickly wiped away the tears, not wishing for Gerald to see her like this.

"No, no, really, I'm fine," said Phoebe, her eyes now dry and red. Gerald obviously did not believe her for a second. "Oh...how much of that did you see?"

Gerald looked honestly ashamed.

"More than I should have," said Gerald. "I've…sorta been following you guys. I'm sorry."

"Why were you following us?"

Gerald walked over to Phoebe and put his hands on her tiny shoulders.

"Phoebe…I know this a bad time, but I just have to know," said Gerald. "I'm just so worried that I don't know what to do anymore. I just want to help him…and you too. Please tell me…what are you guys doing…and what does it have to do with Arnold?"

Phoebe stared up at Gerald in disbelief, speechless.


	9. Chapter Nine: Fated Meetings

Unresolved Issues

Chapter Nine: Fated Meetings

* * *

Ruth McDougal sat on a stool in the front of Bigal's Family Restaurant, bored out of her mind. Although she worked as a waitress at the restaurant most of the time, currently she was working as the hostess since the regular hostess was out sick. In Ruth's eyes, the only difference between working as a waitress and a hostess was that, as a waitress, you got to be bored while bringing everyone their orders, while as a hostess, you got to be bored while sitting down. She sighed, looking at her nails since nobody was coming in at the moment. While Ruth thought every day there was slow, today seemed particularly slower than usual. The part time job gave Ruth no enjoyment whatsoever and she often thought about quitting; however, since her parents would not allow her to quit, she simply put far less effort into her work and complained about the job constantly.

As Ruth sighed and thought about all the things she would rather be doing, a man wearing a brown coat and sunglasses walked in. The man walked up to her, but Ruth did not notice. Finally, the man cleared his throat, making Ruth look up.

"Oh, sorry," said Ruth without enthusiasm. "Welcome to Bigal's. Smoking or non-smoking?"

"Non-smoking, please," said the man, in an accent Ruth couldn't recognize.

"Table for one?"

"No no, a table for two, please," said the man. "I'm expecting someone. I'd like the table under the name 'Vigil'"

"'Kay," said Ruth as she wrote down the information. She got up from the stool to show the man to his table when she noticed his coat. "Oh, you can leave your coat on one of the hooks over there, if you want."

"No, thank you, I'm fine," said Mr. Vigil, smiling.

Ruth shrugged and walked Mr. Vigil over to a table with two seats in the far corner of the mostly empty restaurant. The florescent light on the table over the ceiling flickered. Mr. Vigil sat down in one of the chairs.

"Yes, this will do nicely. Thank you," he said.

Ruth gave a slight nod. "A waitress will be with you in a minute." She walked away, back to her stool. She did not wonder why the man insisted on wearing a coat inside when it was not that cold or why he wore sunglasses in a dimly lit restaurant. Ruth was far too busy being bored to care about such matters. She sat back down at the stool and sighed, reluctantly preparing for yet another boring evening.

* * *

_O what a rogue and peasant slave am I, _thought Helga bitterly as she walked down the sidewalk. The sun behind her was beginning to set. On any other day, Helga might have stopped to secretly admire the beauty of it. But today, Helga could see no beauty in anything, least of all herself.

After all the work she had put into the plan to help Arnold, after all of her effort, Helga had managed to destroy it all just because she let her temper get the better of her. In her mind, to say that her plan was a catastrophe was a vast understatement; she had taken failure to such a new level that she could not think of a word that properly conveyed its magnitude.

_What am I supposed to do now? _thought Helga as her eyes stung with tears. _How am I supposed to face Arnold ever again knowing that I had a chance to help him and let it slip through my fingers? I don't deserve to see look into his football-shaped face ever again, let alone deserve any feelings from him. Because of this…because of what I've done…Arnold might never get better. The wounds in his heart are so deep. He might become so depressed and sad that soon he'd become a different person. The Arnold I know might soon be gone forever…and I destroyed my only chance to do anything about it._

As she thought, she recalled the words of the strange man from the bus yesterday. The man had found Mile's journal left on the bus and entrusted it to Helga to return to Helga. The man who had the nerve to say that coming across the journal was her "destiny."

_Was this the "destiny" you meant, you bastard? _she thought. _Was it always my fate to have my hopes, Arnold's hopes, raised so high only to have them crushed? Was it my fate to ruin everything from the start? Was it my destiny to simply watch Arnold waste away and hope against hope that everything will be okay? _As she walked, she furiously kicked a small rock. It flew against the wall of an dark alley and disappeared into the shadows. _No, it wasn't fate, _Helga decided. _It was stupidity. Pure, utter stupidity. It's not the world's fault I failed; it's all on me this time._

She continued to walk down the street, too depressed to even hold her own head up. She walked for some time before she heard a familiar voice call out her name behind her. Helga turned around and saw Lila, out of breath.

"For a minute," she said when she found enough breath to speak, "I was oh so certain I wouldn't be able to catch up with you."

"What do you want, Lila?" said Helga in a blank, depressed tone.

"Well…" said Lila meekly, "I have to see your sister. We were going out to dinner, remember?"

Helga had forgotten about that, not that it mattered to her anyway.

"So, I was thinking I could just walk with you to your house, if that's alright with you," said Lila.

Helga shrugged and turned to walk away.

"Whatever," said Helga.

Lila walked next to Helga. Lila looked like she was expecting Helga to say something, but Helga said nothing. Finally, Lila said, "You wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about," said Helga.

"It might make you feel better."

Helga looked Lila in the eye and said, "No, Lila, it wouldn't."

"Oh." Lila scratched the back of her neck. "Are you sure?"

Helga sighed and gave Lila a harsh look.

"You're not going to shut up until I talk about this, are you?" she said.

Lila looked down, without saying anything. Helga sighed again. Right now, Lila reminded her of a stray dog; you throw them a bone once and they'll follow you around forever, whether you like it or not.

"You want to know what happened?" said Helga, not bothering to wait for a reply. "I went in, tried to talk some reason in to Rhonda. Then she made me so mad that I smacked her."

Lila looked shocked but didn't say anything.

"Yeah," said Helga. "I smacked Ms. Popular in the face. _Fantastic_ diplomacy on my part. So now, we've got nothing. No Rhonda, no money, no help for Arnold. All because I got pissed off. Now what do you think of that?"

Lila looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't think of anything to say.

"Yeah, great advice, talking about this," said Helga, sarcastic and bitter. "I feel _so_ much better."

"I…just wanted to help," said Lila sadly. "I mean, you're my friend and-"

"_I'm_ your friend? Since _when_?"

Lila stopped walking. Helga turned and saw that she had a genuinely hurt expression on her face. Realizing what she said, Helga looked down.

"Look, I'm sorry," said Helga. "I didn't mean that."

"I'm ever so sure you didn't," said Lila, still looking hurt.

"I guess I just can't do anything right today," said Helga quietly.

They continued walking down the sidewalk. The sky was a purplish-red color as the sun was nearly finished setting. They walked in silence until they were nearly in sight of Helga's house.

"Listen," said Lila finally, "this isn't the end, Helga."

"What?"

"This isn't the end. I know that you've made some…mistakes. We all have. I'm oh too sure that I have. But that doesn't mean we can't help Arnold…that _you_ can't help Arnold."

"There's nothing else I can-"

"Yes, there is," said Lila interrupting. "There's always another way. I'm…not quite sure what you'd be able to do in this case, but I'm sure you'll find a way. I'm ever so certain of it."

They approached Helga's house. Helga looked Lila in the eye, and the look in her eyes showed Helga that she truly believed what she was saying. Helga wasn't sure if she should thank Lila for her optimism or pity her naiveté. As much as Helga wanted to believe what Lila was saying, she just couldn't. When she didn't reply, Lila gave her a reassuring smile.

"You'll find a way," said Lila. "You'll see."

Helga walked up the steps and opened the door. Lila followed her inside.

To Helga's dismay, Olga came out of the living room to greet them.

"Oh Baby Sister, it's so good to see you," said Olga. When she saw Lila was there, she said, "It's good to see you too, Little Sis."

Helga raised an eyebrow. On the surface, Olga acted as annoyingly cheerful as she always did but something about her demeanor seemed…different; however, Helga couldn't figure out what. However, Helga had bigger worries on her mind than Olga.

"Umm…Baby Sister," said Olga. "You have a visitor."

Helga's head snapped up.

"What?" she said.

She felt a tapping on her shoulder. When she turned, she saw Lila, looking pale like she had seen a ghost. She pointed over to the living room. When Helga turned to look, she was surprised to see Arnold standing there.

"_Arnold?!" _she said, stunned.

"Hi Helga," said Arnold nervously. "Umm…I know this is a bit sudden but…could we, maybe…talk?"

Helga opened her mouth, but no words seem to come out. She stood as still as a statue, unable to say anything. Her mind seemed to go completely numb. She knew that she was being stared at. Lila looked with a worried look on her face; she was probably the only person in the room who truly grasped what Helga was feeling right now. Olga looked at Helga, her look of anticipation slowly degraded into one of confusion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Big Bob sitting on his big, comfortable chair in the other room, totally oblivious to what was going on near the front door.

However, at the moment, Helga did not care how Lila, Olga, or Bob were reacting. All that mattered was the football-headed boy with golden hair standing in front of her. Everything else in the room seemed to fade into the background. In Helga's mind, it was just her and Arnold.

He had a weak smile, but he was obviously nervous. Unfortunately, whatever anxiety he felt was nothing compared to what Helga was feeling right now. Any other time, Helga would have enjoyed to be anywhere near Arnold. But now, after her failure, just looking at his face made her feel like she was being punched in her very soul. The timing could not possibly be worse. She was beginning to think that fate was conspiring to make her miserable.

"Helga?" said Arnold, taking a step towards her. "Are you okay?"

He was obviously worried, but Helga couldn't understand why. After what she had done, she didn't deserve Arnold's concern. She found herself becoming angry, not at Arnold, but at herself.

_I failed you, my love, _she thought. _No matter what Lila says, I don't deserve to know you. How can you even stand to look at me?_

Helga clenched her fist.

"Why are you here?" she said quietly, her voice quivering.

"What?" said Arnold, confused. He looked like he did not expect this kind of reaction from Helga at all.

"Helga…" whispered Lila. Helga acted as if she did not here her.

"What are you doing here?!" said Helga, raising her voice without meaning to. To her horror, she realized her eyes were becoming watery. She tried to choke back the tears, hoping nobody would notice. However, the pale expression on Arnold's face made it clear that he had noticed. Lila turned away, knowing that Helga would only feel even worse if she knew Lila had seen her. Olga made no effort to conceal what she had seen, opening her mouth in concern and alarm.

"Helga...what's going on?" said Arnold.

Helga tried to say something, but she was terrified opening her mouth would let out a sob. She looked in Arnold's beautiful green eyes, full of concern. She couldn't bear to look at him anymore. Quickly, she turned and ran up the stairs.

Despite herself, she looked backed downstairs. She saw Big Bob lean in for a moment, wanting to see what was going on, but Olga told him everything was fine. Even though he didn't seem to believe her, he went back in the other room. As soon as he left, Olga started running to follow Helga up the stairs. Lila, looking very sad, tried to stop her, but without much luck. She couldn't see Arnold's face from there, which was probably a good thing.

She ran up to her room. She swung the door open and was about to run inside when her sister ran up beside her. She looked very worried.

"Helga, what's wrong?" said Olga. "Why are acting this way?"

"Leave me alone," said Helga. She was very angry. All she wanted to do was to be left alone, where she wouldn't have to face her own failure, yet Olga was keeping from doing that.

Olga grabbed Helga's arm. Helga glared up at her.

"Let go of me," said Helga in a louder voice.

"Please, Baby Sister, talk to me," said Olga. "I just want to help!"

"You want to help?" said Helga jerking her arm from Olga's grip. "Then just go away!"

"Please, I just wanted to help," said Olga, obviously upset. "I thought that maybe…well, since he's your friend, I thought if you talked to him then…"

"_You_ had something to do with Arnold being here?!" said Helga, furious now. She took a step towards Olga, who now seemed on the verge of tears. "Do me a favor, _Olga. _Next time you want to help me, just don't. I don't want your idea of help. I never have and I never will. The best thing you can do is just…go…away!"

Helga walked into her room and slammed the door. Distantly, Helga heard something else in the house fall to the floor. Helga didn't care.

She walked over to her bed and lied down, She looked on her desk and saw an envelope with her name written on it. She hadn't seen it there this morning, but Helga was too upset and mad to care about a stupid letter. She tried to lie down on her bed, but for some reason she couldn't get comfortable. Enraged, Helga stood up from her bed and walked over to the corner of her room. She felt like punching the wall. Just as she was about to do so, she happened to look to her left and saw herself on the mirror she had on her dresser. She looked at the angry glare in her eyes, the tears still clinging to her eyelashes, the furious expression on her face. Her angry expression soon turned sad. She looked down.

_God…look at me…what is wrong with me? _thought Helga. She tried to think of an answer, but she did not have one. She leaned against the corner of her room and slid down, sitting down on the floor. Then, without wanting or meaning to, she began to cry silently.

Outside the doorway, unbeknownst to Helga, Olga stood in front of the door. She felt like crying, but she couldn't. She just stood there, staring at the wall. She stood there for a few minutes, trying to think of something to do, before finally walking back downstairs, sullenly.

* * *

Gerald looked down into Phoebe's hazel eyes. His hands were upon her shoulders. Under any other circumstances, Gerald would have greatly enjoyed being this close to Phoebe; however, these were not the best circumstances. After all, he had just come upon Phoebe crying after Helga snapped about something (unfortunately, Gerald couldn't clearly make out exactly what Helga was so upset about when he eavesdropped on them). Although Phoebe had stopped crying when he showed up, Gerald knew he couldn't possibly be helping Phoebe right now by asking her about what Helga, Lila, and her were doing there and what it had to do with Arnold, but it was something Gerald just needed to know.

Phoebe looked up at him, shocked. She was silent for a long time. Finally, the only word she could muster was a quiet "What?"

"Listen," said Gerald as gently as he could, "I know what you guys were doing had something to do with Arnold. It was written all over your face when I talked to you earlier."

Phoebe looked down, embarrassed and ashamed at the same time.

"I…I can't tell you," said Phoebe. "I told Helga I-"

"Please, Phoebe," he said, looking her directly in the eye. "I wouldn't ask you something like this if it wasn't really important. He's my best friend, Phoebe. And if anyone has a right to know if he's in trouble or hurting or whatever, it's me."

Phoebe said nothing, but Gerald could tell from the look in her eyes that she really did want to tell him, but wasn't sure if she should.

"Phoebe…" said Gerald. "You can trust me. You know that, don't you?"

Phoebe looked up at him.

"Yes…yes, I know I can," she said. She looked up at him, then at her shoulder. Only then did Gerald realize his hands were still there. His face turned slightly red as he pulled his hands back.

"Oh, um…" he stammered. "Heh, sorry about that."

"It's alright," said Phoebe, giving a weak smile. She turned away from him. Then, after taking a deep breath, she said, "It's his parents."

"What?" said Gerald.

"His parents. Arnold's parents. That's what this is about."

Gerald was taken aback. Gerald was one of the few people who knew that the reason Arnold's parents weren't around was because they flew off on a mission to San Lorenzo when Arnold was a baby. They never came back, and nobody ever found out what happened to them.

"Oh," he said. "Oh god." It started to make sense. Gerald had known Arnold since pre-school, and he was one of the few people who really saw Arnold when he was vulnerable. Normally, Arnold acted normal and positive most of the time, even though he had his ups and downs like any person; however, when the subject of his parents came up, he always became sad and distant, just like he was today. He knew that his friend was in pain, but he didn't know that his problem opened such old wounds.

"Crap," he said, feeling like an idiot. "I should have realized this sooner." He looked over at Phoebe. "What's wrong? Is he gonna be okay?"

"I don't know," she said. "He wanted to go to San Lorenzo to find his parents. He tried to find a way to get there but…I don't know what happened, but apparently it didn't work."

Gerald felt as if he had been kicked in the chest, as if he could literally feel his friend's heartache. He could not even imagine how Arnold was feeling right now. No wonder he seemed so depressed.

Phoebe told him everything else. She told him that Helga had found the journal, how she found out Arnold's problem, and how she thought of a plan to ask Rhonda money to charter a private plane. She told him how Helga asked Phoebe and later Lila for help. And, finally, she told them how they failed.

Gerald listened to her in silence. He felt as if his eyes had been open for the first time. He could not believe all this was going on without him realizing it. However, as Phoebe spoke, je realized there was one very important question Phoebe had not answer, an answer that she was doing her best to avoid.

"I've only got one question," he said when she was nearly finished. "Why? Why would Helga do this? Why would Helga of all people go through all this trouble for Arnold?"

Phoebe said nothing. Gerald thought about asking her again, but he knew that she couldn't betray Helga's trust. It wouldn't be fair of Gerald to demand she answer that. However, Gerald couldn't help but wonder why Helga would do this. He felt a bit frustrated because he felt like the answer was on the tip of his tongue. He felt like it should be obvious, painfully obvious; and yet, for some reason, he just couldn't see the answer…or couldn't allow himself to see the answer.

"Nevermind," he said finally. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Phoebe nodded.

"Well, that's about it then," she said. "Helga just said it was over and left…and I'm not even sure why. Lila went after her. And I…I just don't know what to do now." She shook her head. "I guess…in the end…we couldn't do anything for him."

Gerald looked at her and shook his head. He forced a smile.

"Don't be like that," he said. "I know the man. He may be sad now, but he'll bounce back. He always does."

Phoebe looked up at him.

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah," said Gerald. Although that was true, Gerald knew there was more to it. He thought about keeping it to himself, but he found he couldn't lie to Phoebe's face. He frowned. "But…well, to be honest, Arnold's always been upset about his parents, you know? He'll be back to normal again...but deep down, he'll always think about this. After all, he never was the kind of guy to just let something go." He sighed. "I think that, deep down, he won't rest until he's found out what happened to them. And…well, I'm just not sure what to do."

Phoebe looked down, dejected once again. Gerald felt terrible for raising her hopes only to bring them down again, but he couldn't just lie to her. But it was more than that; these thoughts weighed heavy on Gerald's mind, and it seemed like Phoebe was the only person besides Arnold who he could share these thoughts with. He wished dearly that there was something to do that could help Phoebe and Arnold, but there seemed like there was nothing he could do. He was just a teenager, and he knew nothing about raising so much money.

Gerald felt horrible. He had wanted to help and all he was doing now was making Phoebe feel even more hopeless.

_Some friend I am,_ he thought. _I can't even help my two best friends. But it seems like I can't do that unless I trip over a big pile of money in the street or something. I mean, usually I'm good at making my friends feel better, but right now it seems like I completely suck at it.. Hell, I can't even have a positive attitude about this like Arn-_

Something dawned on Gerald in that moment.

_Like Arnold would, _he thought, feeling a smile creep on to his face. How many times had Arnold had helped him with his problems? How many times had he solved seemingly unsolvable problems with nothing more than a sickeningly positive attitude? There were too many to count. This had always amazed Gerald, who was a bit more pessimistic. He had once asked Arnold why he always had to look on the positive side. Arnold had turned to him and said "Because somebody has to."

Gerald couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't help but admire the irony.

"I can't believe it," said Gerald to himself, laughing. "All that grief I gave you about acting like that…and I guess this time it's my turn."

Phoebe looked at him as if he was crazy.

"Are you…okay?" said Phoebe.

"Not really," he said, still laughing. "But I know what I have to do now." He looked at the houses nearby and recognized Rhonda's place. He walked towards the house.

"What are you doing?" asked Phoebe.

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, no longer laughing, but smiling. "I'm going to ask Rhonda for help."

"But…we already tried that."

"Well, I'm going to try again."

"But…" Phoebe was stammering now. "But how can you just do that. What if it doesn't work?"

"Then I'll try something else. And if that doesn't work, then I'll try something after that. Eventually, something will work." He walked up the steps to Rhonda's house. "I'm not sure what I'd do if this doesn't work, but I'd think of something." He turned back to Phoebe. "If you help me, I'm sure we could do it."

Phoebe stood looking up at him. She looked completely astonished and confused.

"I…I don't get it," she said. "A minute ago, you seemed ready to give up. And now you seem so…" She trailed off. "How is it that you can be so optimistic now?"

Gerald looked at her a smiled. He held back the urge to laugh when the answer came to his mind.

"Because…somebody has to." He knocked on the door once. When there was no answer, he opened the door. He looked back at Phoebe, who was looking up at him with a look of- was it a look of admiration or something more? Gerald felt his face become slightly red. "Are you coming?"

Phoebe nodded. As she came up the steps she said, quietly, "Thank you."

"Anytime," he said.

Together, they walked inside.

* * *

Big Patty walked out of the kitchen in Bigal's Family Restaurant and was surprised to see there was a new customer there. She had been a waitress there for almost a year now and, in her experience, business was usually very slow on Wednesdays. There were only a handful of other people in the restaurant, all of whom Patty had already waited on. However, now there was a man sitting in a table in the corner, wearing a coat and sunglasses. She felt bad that it had taken her so long to notice the man.

Patty noticed Ruth, sitting on her stool by the front door. As usual, she seemed to be doing nothing, looking bored. Patty walked over to her.

"Hey, Ruth, how long has that guy been there?" said Patty politely, pointing over to the man in the corner.

"What?" said Ruth, looking over to the corner. "Ohh, him. I dunno, a little while I guess."

"Why didn't you come get me or take his order?"

Ruth shrugged. "Not my problem."

Patty rolled her eyes. Patty had a few co-workers in the restaurant. The cook, Harold, had been her boyfriend since fourth grade and helped her get a waitress job at the restaurant. Patty had also gotten to know the other two waiters, Iggy and Lorenzo. However, Ruth was the only co-worker who Patty just could not get along with. Patty tried to be polite to her but, frankly, she thought Ruth had all the personality and intelligence of a jar of old mayonnaise. She spent most of her time at the restaurant avoiding work whenever possible and talking about all the things she would rather be doing. Patty was amazed Bigal even hired her in the first place.

"Whatever," said Patty. "Well, I should go take his order. After all, _some_ of us have work to do."

Ruth glared at her, but said nothing.

Patty walked over to the man's table. The man seemed to be staring at the empty seat across from him, deep in thought. His expression was hard to see with the sunglasses, but he seemed to have a somewhat nervous look on his face.

"Hello, welcome to Bigal's" said Patty.

The man looked up at Patty and his nervous expression changed to a smile. It seemed like he was trying to mask how he was really feeling. Patty wondered what was on the man's mind, but she knew it wasn't polite to ask such questions.

"I'm Patty. I'll be your server today," she said. She thought for a minute and added, "I'm very sorry for the wait."

"No, it's fine," said Mr. Vigil. "I'm in no rush."

"Would you like anything to drink?" asked Patty politely.

Mr. Vigil thought for a minute. "Coffee would be nice," he said.

Patty smiled. "Right away, sir," she said.

Patty quickly went to the kitchen. She got a cup and a pot of coffee that had already been boiling. She returned to the table and poured Mr. Vigil a cup.

"Thank you," said Mr. Vigil smiling. He reached on the side of the table for a packet of sugar.

"Would you like a menu?" asked Patty.

"No," he said, tearing the packet open and pouring it into his cup. "I'm waiting for someone. I'll order when she gets here."

"Ah," said Patty. "Your girlfriend?"

Mr. Vigil laughed. "No, nothing like that," he said, pouring some cream into his coffee and stirring it with a spoon. "No, it's just a…friend, I guess." He stared at the seat across from him, his smile fading. "I'm a bit nervous, actually."

"Why?" said Patty.

"It's…complicated. I have to talk to her about another friend of hers. Really, I should be talking to him myself but…" He stopped and looked up at her. He laughed. "It's quite complicated. Sorry, I didn't mean to bore you with my problems."

Patty gave the man a smile. "It's not a problem at all. Well, I'll be back when your friend gets here and I'll take your order."

"Thank you."

Patty was about to turn away, but paused. She looked at the man. There was a question that had been hanging in her mind ever since she had laid eyes on the man.

"Can I ask you something?" said Patty, hesitantly.

"Of course," said Mr. Vigil.

"Umm…" She tried to choose her words carefully, as not to offend the man. "I was just wondering…why are you wearing sunglasses inside?"

Vigil stared at her for a minute. Then he smiled.

"Well, actually, my eyes are very sensitive to the light," he said. "It's something of a rare condition. You could say it runs in my family. I can see well enough without the sunglasses, but it's not exactly what you would call comfortable. Especially in this city. Ever since I came here everything seems so…bright. I mean, this whole country is full of so many bright lights, but something about this city seems a tad brighter." He laughed and shook his head. "It seems that no matter how long I stay here, there are some things you just don't get used to." He paused for a minute, staring into his light brown coffee, as if he was remembering something. Then he looked back up at Patty, smiling. "So you see, I just feel more comfortable with these on."

"Oh…oh I'm so sorry," said Patty, feeling bad for thinking the man was behaving oddly.

"It's okay, really," said Mr. Vigil, smiling. "After all, you're not the first person to ask." He laughed. "Besides, I'm sure I really do look strange with these on all the time."

Patty, still a bit embarrassed by her comment, said "I'll be back to take your order later."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"Your welcome," said Patty as she walked off to the kitchen. When she left, Mr. Vigil stared into his cup of coffee, waiting for his "friend" to finally arrive.

* * *

_What just happened?_ thought Arnold, stunned. He wasn't sure how he expected Helga to react when she saw him, but he certainly didn't expect this reaction. When he thought about it, he had hoped that Helga would be happy to see him, so that it would be easier to talk to her. But, judging from her reaction, she must not be very happy to see him at all. Arnold thought she seemed furious or sad or both. He wasn't sure what to think.

He looked up at the stairs, hoping it would be Helga coming back down, but it was Olga. She had a vaguely sad expression on her face. She stared out at nothing, as if she was looking at something very distant. She walked down the stairs and into the dining room without saying anything.

"Arnold?"

Arnold turned at Lila's voice. To be honest, Arnold had been so caught up in Helga's reaction that he was only vaguely aware Lila was there at all. Just a few years ago, Lila was Arnold's whole world. If she was in the room, she was all he saw. Now, she was just another one of his friends. A close friend, but still just a friend.

_Funny how things change, _thought Arnold. He wondered if he only considered Helga just a close friend, but before he could think, he realized that Lila was still waiting for him to answer.

"What is it Lila?" said Arnold, embarrassed he had been lost in thought while she was talking to him.

Lila took a step towards him. She looked down at the floor for a minute thinking, then looked back up.

"Are you going to talk to Helga?" asked Lila quietly.

Arnold bit his lip. He didn't know what he should do. He certainly wanted to talk to Helga; not just because of his own problems, but now to see if she was okay. However, it wasn't that simple.

"I'm…not sure what I'm going to do," said Arnold. "I mean, I want to talk to her. That's why I'm here after all. But…well, she didn't exactly seem happy to see me. Maybe I should just go."

Lila shook her head. She had a sad smile on her face.

"Oh Arnold," she said. "I'm ever so certain you don't know what you're talking about."

"What?" said Arnold, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm oh so sure that you're the only person who _can_ talk to Helga right now."

"But…" He looked up the stairs. They seemed to tower ominously over him, and suddenly walking up them to see Helga seemed like an impossible task. He looked back to Lila. "I don't know. I think she's mad at me."

"She isn't," said Lila. Arnold looked in her eyes and could tell that she was telling the truth. "You need to talk to her. After all, it was all for you."

"All for me? What was?"

Lila, realizing what she said, put her hand to her mouth.

"Well…umm…" she said. "Just talk to Helga. I have a feeling she'll tell you." She looked into the dining room. "I'm oh so sure I should talk to Olga. She seemed upset."

"Yeah," said Arnold. He looked up the stairs and sighed. "Wish me luck," he said to Lila as he started walking up the stairs.

Lila smiled sincerely. "Good luck," she said. She walked into the dining room to talk to Olga.

Arnold climbed up the stairs. On the way up, he tried to think of what he could say to Helga. Usually he was good at thinking of the right thing to someone who needed help, but right now, he had nothing. This just wasn't Arnold's day.

_I'll just have to improvise and hope she's not too angry, _he thought.

He walked down the hall. It had been a long time since he had been in Helga's house, but he still remembered which door was her room. He was about to knock on the door when he heard faint sounds coming from within. He put his ear to the door. It was very faint, but Arnold was sure he heard very quiet sobs.

_Damn, _thought Arnold. _This is worse than angry. A lot worse. _He felt like crap. All he wanted was to talk to Helga, to sort out his feelings about his parents…and for her. But now, he had somehow made the only person he seemed to be able to really talk to today cry. Even if it wasn't entirely his fault that she reacted the way she did, he couldn't help but feel responsible.

He tried to gather his courage and, after taking a deep breath, knocked on Helga's door. There was no answer, but he noticed the quiet sounds coming from the room stopped. He knocked again.

"What?" said Helga, her voice almost a whisper.

"Yeah, umm…it's me," he said. "I was wondering if I could come in…if you're alright with that."

She said nothing.

"So…is that okay?" he said.

She still said nothing.

"Okay, I'm coming in," he said. "Is that alright?"

She still remained silent. Arnold sighed.

_Well, she didn't say _no, thought Arnold. _This isn't gonna be easy. Not by a long shot._

He opened the door slowly. He expected to see Helga on the bed or in the chair by her desk, but instead, he found her sitting in the corner of her room. She sat with her knees to her chest. She looked down on the floor. Arnold noticed her eyes were reddened, but she had no tears on her face. She must have wiped them off before he came in.

"Hi," said Arnold. Helga didn't even look up. Arnold put his hand on the back of his neck. Unsure what to do, he walked over to her and looked down at her. Cautiously, he sat down on the floor next to her. "Wanna talk about it?"

Helga looked over to him with a rare look of sadness in her eyes. She sighed.

"I'm a failure," she said. "A failure and a fool."

Arnold looked her in the eyes. He had known Helga for a long time and, over the years, he had thought of her as many different things, positive and negative. But he had never thought of her as a failure or a fool.

"What makes you say that?" said Arnold, still trying not to say anything that would upset her too much.

She looked back down.

"I...can't tell you," she said. "I just…" She sighed again. "I can't."

Arnold looked at her, wishing there was some way he could comfort her the way she had tried to comfort him that morning. As he though about what she had said that morning, he was hit by a sudden insight. Despite himself, he half-smiled.

Helga caught this and glared at him.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" she said in a low, furious voice.

He stood up and looked down into her angry, blue eyes.

"It's ironic," he said. He realized that if he smiled anymore without an explanation, Helga would get even angrier, so he made an effort not to. "I mean, think about it. Doesn't this feel sort of…familiar?" He looked into Helga's eyes and saw that she still didn't get it. "This morning at the pier…"

Helga's scowl faded. It seemed she was beginning to get it.

"I was really, really depressed this morning, and you came to talk to me, even though I didn't really want you to," he said. "And now, here we are again. Except now we're not by the river and I'm in your shoes." He shook his head. "It's almost funny...almost."

"Yeah, funny," said Helga, not laughing or sounding the least bit amused.

"Well," said Arnold softly, "the point is that if you think I won't understand what you're feeling, I think we both know that's not true."

"It's not that," said Helga, standing up. "I know you'd understand. That's not why I don't want to tell you. It's…" She looked away. For a brief moment, Arnold feared her eyes would begin to tear up. "I'm ashamed, alright! I don't want you to know how I failed you."

"Failed me? How could you fail me, Helga? When I needed my dad's journal, you had it. When I needed someone to confide to this morning, you were there. How could you possibly think you failed me?" He took a step towards her. He spoke in a calm, quiet voice. "This morning, I called myself a lot of things you're calling yourself now. And you told me that it wasn't true and that I shouldn't hate myself. Well, that's what I'm saying to you right now."

Helga looked in his eyes. She looked touched, but she was still sad.

"You don't understand," she said.

"Then tell me. Make me understand."

She was silent for a minute. Arnold almost thought she wouldn't say anything at all. After almost a full minute, she finally spoke.

"I…I tried to help you," she said in a whisper. "I…tried to see if I could help you get to San Lorenzo."

Arnold's eyes widened. He wouldn't have expected this in a million years. He wanted to think of something to say, but all that came out of his mouth was a quiet, confused "What?"

"I tried to find enough money to get you the private plane you were talking about," said Helga. "Not just me either. I got Phoebe to help. Lila too. The only idea we had that any chance of succeeding was asking Rhonda for the money and…" Helga was unable to look at Arnold. "Well, imagine the biggest, most violent train wreck ever and you'll almost have an idea of how well it went." She looked down at the floor. "It didn't work. I failed you, when you really needed help most." She struggled with her next words, as if she couldn't bear to say them aloud. "And I was…afraid. Very, very afraid that if I didn't help…well you were so depressed earlier that…I was afraid you might not recover. That…that'd you'd be like forever. That'd you'd become a totally different person." Helga took a deep breath. "Well…now you know…"

Arnold stood and stared at her. This was certainly an unforeseen turn of events. He walked over to Helga's bed and sat down.

"Wow…that's…a lot to take in," he said. "Helga…I mean…you really…I don't really know what to say." He put his hand to his face, trying to collect his thoughts and figure out how to articulate his feelings. "Helga..." he said slowly. "You have no idea…how much this means to me."

Helga looked at Arnold. They stared at each other in silence.

"…_what_?!" shouted Helga, finally. Her shout was not of anger, but of complete, utter surprise. "But you…you're not…aren't you disappointed?"

"In what?" said Arnold, standing up. He was feeling a lot of confusing things, but disappointment in Helga was not one of them. He began to pace about the room. "Disappointed that you actually really cared about what I was feeling? That you went to such lengths to try and help me? That you knew that what you were doing was almost impossible, but tried anyway?" He walked in front of Helga and looked her in her eyes. "Helga…I have absolutely nothing to be disappointed in."

Helga's eyes were wide. She stared at Arnold for so long that he almost thought she became incapable of blinking.

"But…you were so depressed before, Arnold," she said. "Aren't you sad you can't get to San Lorenzo? Aren't you sad you might not have a chance to find your parents?"

Arnold frowned. He turned and walked over to her desk. He leaned on it.

"Of course I am, Helga," said Arnold. He felt a deep pain in his heart as he said it. "I…I've been wanting to go there for so long. I've always hoped that one day I could find my parents. I've wanted it so long that it's become a part of me. And…well, I guess what happened yesterday made me…lose it a bit. I thought all hope was gone and I just…" He turned back to her, giving her a sad smile. "Well, you saw how I acted. I was really depressed and…well, I'm sorry I made you worry so much."

Before Helga could say anything, he turned back around. "But, even though I didn't want to see it before, you were right what you said before," he said. "I shouldn't hate myself because of this. They…my parents…wouldn't want that. Even though I know that, deep down, it's still hard. It's hard, really hard, to have so many feelings in your heart going against each other." He took his hands of the desk and walked back over to Helga. "I think you know how that feels." And as he said it, he knew it was true.

"I'm really sorry about what I put you through, Helga," he said. "But…if you were worried about me becoming a different person just because you didn't get some money, you're crazy." He put his hand to his chest. "I'm me. I've always been and I always will. I'm not sure how to be anyone else and I don't really want to try."

Helga looked at him, considering what he had said. She took a step towards him. They were less than a foot away. They looked each other in the eyes.

"Arnold…" said Helga, quietly. "That is...without a doubt…the corniest thing you have ever said."

"That's not funny," said Arnold, but he was already laughing. Helga smiled in that sly way she always seemed to smile. For the first time since Arnold had come in, Helga looked like she was acting normally.

"But it was good," she said. "Corny. But good. I appreciate it." Her smile faltered a bit. "I still feel bad…I mean, for a while, just for a while, I thought I could really pull it off."

Arnold stopped laughing. He wasn't sure what he could say to that.

"Well…I don't know what to do," said Arnold. "About my parents, I mean. I honestly don't know. But maybe…maybe this isn't the end."

Helga laughed at that. "Guess Lila was right after all," she muttered.

"What?" said Arnold.

"Nothing, nothing."

Arnold paused for a second.

"You know," he said hesitantly, "ever since this morning, I've been thinking about you a lot." Helga looked at him, her expression unchanged. "I mean…a lot. I even had a dream about you."

Helga raised an eyebrow and a shadow of a smile crept on her face.

"What…kind of dream, exactly?" she said, grinning deviously.

"What do you…" He saw the grin on Helga's face and understood what she was insinuating. "Oh. _Oh! _N-no, no it wasn't like that! I mean, that's…no. No, I mean…" He felt the heat on his face and knew that he was blushing. "Jeez, Helga, don't be so immature."

Helga laughed gleefully.

"I swear, even after all these years, it never gets old teasing you, Football Head" she said. Usually Arnold would have been annoyed by this nickname, but oddly enough, he was almost happy to hear it again. Maybe it had something to do with how serious today had been or how much he had worried about Helga. Arnold wasn't sure, but either way, it felt comforting to hear.

Once Helga stopped laughing, she said, "Thanks, Arnold. You really helped me feel better…even though I should really be the one helping you."

"Trust me, you have," said Arnold, smiling.

"Yeah…but it feels like I should be able to do more, since I…" Helga trailed off, not wishing to finish the sentence.

Without thinking, Arnold finished her sentence by saying "Since you're in love with me?"

Arnold gasped after realizing what he said. Helga snapped her neck up with an astonished expression on her face.

_Oh God, please tell me I didn't just say that, _he thought. Helga had told him how she felt a long time ago, but ever since then, they never addressed her feelings for him again. Mentioning it became an unspoken taboo between the two. He knew how she felt, and she _knew_ that he knew, and yet they never spoke about it. Now, for the first time since fourth grade, it was out in the open.

"Well…you are," said Arnold, quietly and bashfully.

Helga blushed and looked away. She didn't say anything.

"I…sorry," he said. Then, without thinking again, "But…you know…that's…" He put his hand behind his neck, not even sure what he was saying. "That's not exactly…a bad thing."

She looked back up at him, still blushing. Arnold was almost certain he was blushing too. They moved a bit closer to each other. He looked into her blue eyes and knew, in that instant, the answer to the question he had been wondering about all day.

Why did he tell Helga about his parents? Why did he tell her and not his best friend? The answer was simple. He knew how Helga felt. He might not fully grasp how deeply she loved him, but he had a good idea. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he always knew that she cared about him more than anyone else he had known.

And, as Arnold realized in that instant, part of him (how large or small, Arnold himself wasn't even sure) _liked_ it that way. He liked that Helga cared about him, even loved him.

Their faces moved closer together. Her eyes closed. His heart pounded like a hammer in his chest. He knew what was about to happen, yet he did nothing to stop it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

_How do I feel? _He thought. _What do I want? What do I-_

Their lips met. It lasted only a moment. Suddenly, Arnold pulled back. He and Helga stared at each other, both of them blushing and looking embarrassed. Neither of them seemed to believe what had just happened. They turned away from each other, moving to opposite sides of the room.

Arnold tried to say something, but couldn't. He was speechless. After all, what could he say after something like…_that_ happened?

"Well," he said finally, in an awkward voice. He coughed. "Umm…I…yeah…er…I um…I think my grandma and grandpa are expecting me home for dinner, so maybe I should just…I mean, if that's okay with-"

"Yeah, that's…that's alright," said Helga, her voice shaking a bit. She seemed to feel just as awkward as he did. "I um…probably should talk to…umm…_Olga_, that's right. I might have upset her so…"

"Yeah, yeah," said Arnold. "Well…er…thanks again. Really. I'll um…I'll talk to you later."

"Later then," she said, still not facing him. "Goodbye."

Arnold stood there a moment, almost forgetting how his legs worked. Finally, he briskly walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. He came close to running down the stairs and out the front door. He kept walking quickly down the sidewalk for several blocks before he stopped, unable to run any longer. Now he was forced to really think about what had just happened.

He looked back down the street in the direction of Helga's house. He thought about what they had done and was not even completely sure how he felt about the act itself. But as he thought about how he had behaved after, much to his regret, he felt like a coward.

* * *

_Well now, that was…unexpected,_ thought Helga. Her heart was still racing after the kiss. When they were kids, there were several times when she kissed him, but _he_ had never kissed _her_ before.

She paced around her room.

_I mean…wow, that was...that was something else, _she thought. She felt like a little girl who had gotten the present she always wanted Christmas morning. _I mean, what does this mean? He kissed me. Arnold actually kissed me. Does that mean he has feelings for me? Does he even understand why he did it? I mean, he seemed confused, so I dunno. But he seemed happy before so…oh God, I think I have to lie down._

She flopped down on her bed, a thousand thoughts rushing through her head. Helga had to admire the irony that, after years and years of writing carefully refined, meaningful poetry all about her love for Arnold, when her desires actually came to reality, her thoughts sounded less like those of an emotional poet and more like those of an overexcited little girl in kindergarten.

She tossed and turned on the bed, thinking only of Arnold, when she suddenly remembered what he had said to Arnold as he left. Specifically, what she said about talking to her sister. She remembered how she had lashed out at Olga before and, even though Helga did not have much sympathy for her sister, she realized that she hadn't deserved that.

_Wow, I was a real bitch to her, wasn't I? _thought Helga, regretting what she said. _Maybe I really should go talk to-_

Helga stopped and sat up from her bed. Her eyes had caught sight of the envelope on her desk. She had noticed it there when she entered her room, but ignored it. Now that Helga's worries were lifted, she was curious about what this letter was doing in her room.

She got up from her bed and walked over to her desk. Printed neatly on the envelope was the word "Helga." There was no stamp or return address, so it obviously couldn't have come in the mail.

_How did this get here_? she thought. _And who_ _would want to give me a letter anyway?_

She sat down in her chair. She tore the envelope open, trying to be just careful enough not to rip the letter. She took out the piece of paper that was inside and read it. She glanced at the name at the bottom and was shocked. As she went back to read the contents of the letter, she was even more shocked:

_Dear Ms. Pataki,_

_I hope you're doing well. I'm sure you're wondering who I am. I'm the man who spoke to you on the bus the other day and gave you the journal. I'm sure you have many questions, and I intend to answer them. But before that, there is something I must say._

_I must apologize for my conduct the other day. Even though there may have been truth to my words, I must confess I had my own interests at heart. And by giving you that journal, I fear I may have passed my burden onto you and caused you a lot of pain. If that's true, I am truly sorry, and I want to make it right._

_There's so much I feel that you deserve to know, too much to write here. So I wish to tell you in person. At six o' clock, I shall wait for you at Bigal's Family Restaurant. I'll have a table under the name "Vigil." It's a pleasant place where we can talk at length about these matters._

_I'm sure you don't trust me, and I can't exactly blame you, which is why I chose a public place to meet where nothing bad could happen to you. If you are still hesitant about meeting me, I urge you too. There are things I think you need to know about Arnold and other things._

_Take care. I'll be waiting for you._

_Sincerely yours,_

_L. Vigil_

"It's that guy!" she said to herself. In all the excitement over Arnold, Helga had nearly forgotten about that mysterious man.

She sat the letter down on her lap. For a moment, she considered doing nothing. This man seemed like a creep after all. What reason would she have to go see him? However, as she thought about it, there were still too many unanswered questions about him. Why did he know her name before? Why was he following Arnold that morning? And if he was following Arnold, was it really just a coincidence that he found Miles's journal? What was his reason for doing all of this? And now, looking at the letter, Helga saw something new that distressed her. The man signed the letter "L. Vigil."

_Vigil… _thought Helga. She had heard that name not too long ago. In that myth Phoebe was reading to her and Lila, the first man was named Vigil. Of course, it was likely just a coincidence. After all, Vigil was probably a very common name. Helga had never heard of anyone else called Vigil herself, but she was sure it wasn't that unusual. It was just a coincidence. After all, what else could she believe? That this person really was _that_ Vigil? That the first man on Earth really was named Vigil? That Vigil's ghost was reaching out to her for whatever reason?

Helga forced a laugh. _Yeah, right, _she thought, ignoring the faint, creepy chill she had down her spine. Even if it was a coincidence (_and it was just a coincidence_, thought Helga), it was still a very unsettling one.

Helga looked at the letter again, then looked at her watch. It was almost seven o' clock, meaning he would already be at the restaurant. She also knew that Bigal's was not that far from here. It was a public place; like the letter said, she would be fine.

Realizing what she had to do, she hurried to the door.

_I have to know, _she thought. _If he's following Arnold, I have to know why._

With that, Helga hurried down the stairs and out the door.

* * *

Lila was very worried.

She sat down next to Olga alone in the dining room. She had a very sad expression on her face. Even though Lila had tried to comfort her "Big Sis," she seemed inconsolable.

When Lila had first come to see her in the dining room, Olga looked like she was about to cry. Once Lila sat near her and asked what was wrong, Olga explained what Helga had said to her upstairs.

"And now," Olga had said sadly, "I think Baby Sister really does hate me."

When Lila heard the story, she felt torn. Helga had said some very horrible, hurtful things; but Lila also knew that Helga was under pressure. And really, after what had happened, Lila could understand how Helga could overreact. The truly heart wrenching thing was that Lila couldn't tell any of this to Olga. Helga had trusted her, so she couldn't in good conscience reveal what they had done. Helga might get even more upset and that would only lead to more problems.

Lila tried to think of something to say, anything. She thought for a long time. Distantly, she heard the front door open and slam twice; however, she was so deep in thought that she barely noticed. If Olga noticed, she didn't show it; she still had that unchanging sad expression.

"Olga," said Lila, choosing her words carefully. "You shouldn't feel so bad. I'm oh so certain that Helga was just…upset."

"Because of me."

"Not because of you, Big Sis," she sighed. "She's been a bit under…pressure that's all. And well…I ever so sure she just overreacted because of…something."

Olga covered her face with her hand.

"But it really is my fault, Little Sis," she said. "I mean, Arnold wouldn't have even been here if I asked him to stay."

Lila cringed. She hadn't expected Olga to figure out that Arnold was the direct cause of Helga's outburst.

_Then again,_ she thought, _it was oh so obvious, considering how Helga reacting. It probably doesn't mean anything. It's not like there's a reason for her to suspect Helga's feelings for-_

"I've…I've done something very bad, Little Sis," said Olga. "Something very, very bad. I think…" Olga turned and looked Lila in the eye. She was obviously very serious. "You won't tell anyone about this will you?"

"Of course not, Olga," said Lila, not sure where this was going. "My lips are sealed."

Olga looked down in her lap. She placed her hands together.

"I…well, this whole thing is really my fault," said Olga. "I didn't ask Arnold to stay for no reason. Well…I thought…well, I know that Baby Sister sorta…likes that Arnold boy. A lot."

"What?! You know?" blurted Lila. Olga looked up at her. Realizing what she had done, Lila clasped her hand over her mouth.

"You mean _you_ know?" said Olga.

_Stupid Lila, stupid Lila,_ thought Lila to herself.

"Well I…she told me not to tell anyone," whispered Lila.

Olga stared at her for a second. She seemed to understand, but she also seemed sad.

"I see…" said Olga. "So…she told you herself?" She looked over and Lila nodded. Olga looked back down. "I…I only found out after I looked in one of her poetry books. Accidentally." She glanced up at Lila, then glanced back down. "Well…maybe not completely accidentally." She sighed. "It was very wrong of me to do, but I just wanted to understand my Baby Sister so much. She doesn't talk to me. She…she doesn't even like me. I…I didn't know what to do."

Olga really looked like she was about to cry. Trying to reassure her, Lila put her hand on her shoulder.

"Well…" said Lila. "If it makes you feel any better…she wasn't mad at Arnold. That wasn't why she was mad. So it wasn't your fault."

Olga looked up, a bit less sad.

"It…it wasn't?" she said.

Lila nodded.

"But…what was Baby Sister so upset about that?" said Olga, trying to think. "I mean, she seemed so upset. I was so worried but…she wouldn't tell me what was wrong."

"It's umm…" Lila thought for a second. "It's complicated."

Olga looked Lila in the eyes again. Olga was very worried, and Lila knew that nothing except the truth would stop her from worrying. Also, in all honestly, having to conceal the truth from Olga hurt Lila's heart. Olga was one of the few people Lila had to confide in. To Lila, it was like lying to her best friend.

"Please, Little Sis," said Olga, her voice quivering. "You can trust me. I won't tell anyone. I just…I just want to know what's wrong. I want to know if my Baby Sister will be okay."

Lila looked her in the eyes. All she wanted was to know what was wrong. Would it really hurt that much to tell her? It's not like she had any reason to tell anyone else. Besides, Olga had always said Lila could trust her with anything.

Lila bit her lip. No matter what she decided to do, she would still feel guilty. She looked away, then looked back in Olga's worried eyes. Lila suddenly felt very weak.

Sadly, she sighed.

"Alright," said Lila. "But please…please, promise not to tell anyone…

* * *

Gerald and Phoebe stood in front of the door to Rhonda's room. Gerald looked over at Phoebe, who was biting her bottom lip so hard that it was starting to bleed. He couldn't blame her, since he was quite nervous as hell; the only difference was that he was better at hiding it. Hoping to reassure her, he put his hand on her shoulder. She turned to him and smiled as she gently wiped a small droplet of blood from her lip.

Phoebe took a deep breath than gently knocked on the door. There was no answer. She knocked gently again, but there was still no answer. She looked at Gerald, obviously confused. They had not seen Rhonda leave the house from outside and Rhonda's mother had said she had not left her room, so she must be inside. She tried the door, but it was locked. Phoebe hesitated for a minute then knocked on the door louder.

"What?" said Rhonda loudly from inside. Phoebe flinched. Gerald raised an eyebrow.

_That can't be good, _thought Gerald. Rhonda didn't sound angry exactly, but she did seem agitated or stressed out. He was still worried, but he had already come this far. He leaned his face closer to the door.

"Hi Rhonda, its Gerald," he said. "Phoebe's with me too. Can we come in?"

There was a long pause. Gerald stared to think she hadn't heard him when she finally replied.

"No, no, I'd rather you didn't," said Rhonda, her voice a bit nervous, but still clearly agitated. "I think I'd rather be alone for a while."

Gerald looked over at Phoebe. Phoebe was now even more nervous; she was probably beginning to fear they might not even get a second chance to talk to Rhonda. Gerald leaned back towards the door.

"Are you sure?" said Gerald to Rhonda. "I promise we won't take up that much of your time."

"Yes, I'm pretty sure," said Rhonda. "I think I've had quite enough visitors today."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, let's see…the first person who showed up to my room asked me for tens of thousands of dollars for a reason they never even fully explained me. Then the second visitor I had basically demanded the money, called me a bitch, and slapped me in the face. And judging by how _fantastic_ my day has been so far, you two are here to hit me with a baseball bat."

Gerald heard Phoebe gasp.

"She…Helga slapped her?" whispered Phoebe to Gerald.

Gerald shrugged. Even though Helga got angry often and he had seen her hit men before, he had never actually seen her hit another woman. He wondered what Rhonda could have said to actually drive Helga to strike her. One look at Phoebe told Gerald that she was wondering the very same thing.

Gerald heard Rhonda sigh from behind the door. "So…you can see why I'm a bit…testy," she said.

Gerald thought for a minute, then said, "Well, let me assure you, we won't hit you with a bat."

He had hoped to get a laugh from Rhonda, but she just sighed again. "What do you want?" she asked. "Money?"

Phoebe was about to say something, but Gerald spoke first.

"We just want to talk," he said. "That's all."

Again, Rhonda was silent for a long time. Finally, Gerald heard a click, followed by the creak of the door opening.

Rhonda stood in the doorway. She looked at Gerald with a tired, slightly suspicious expression; however, Gerald noticed that she did not look at him angrily, so that was a plus. She had a red mark on the left side of her face. Phoebe looked at the mark, but then turned away when she noticed how rude it was to stare at it.

She looked at Gerald, then at Phoebe.

"Well, aren't you going to come in?" she said.

Gerald looked at Phoebe, gave her a small smile, then followed Rhonda inside. Phoebe entered behind him.

Rhonda did not turn back around to face them; instead, she walked over to her desk nearby. A pristine computer was on the desk, as well as some papers, a makeup box and many expensive looking bottles of perfume with French phrases Gerald did not understand printed on them. Rhonda leaned on the desk, staring out the window over it. She didn't say anything, which Gerald thought was odd. After all, Rhonda was usually very sociable. Of course, considering Helga apparently slapped her, she probably wasn't in the best of moods.

_What a weird day_, Gerald thought. _First I see Helga acting nice, and now I see Rhonda acting quiet. It's not just Arnold; everyone seems sort of…off today. _Gerald remembered Phoebe's comments on his optimistic attitude earlier. _Heh, but I guess I'm acting strange too today, aren't I?_

He realized that neither Rhonda nor Phoebe had said anything. He could understand Phoebe being a bit too nervous to say anything, since she was always very timid; the tension in this situation only made that worse. Rhonda just seemed to be staring out the window.

"Umm…you okay, Rhonda?" said Gerald.

Rhonda turned back to him. She gave him a weak smile.

"I'm not quite sure," she said. She looked back to the window for a moment, then looked back at Gerald. "Gerald, can you ask you a question?"

"Umm…sure, I guess?" Gerald had no idea where this was going. He looked over to Phoebe, but she gave him a look that said she was just as perplexed as he was.

Rhonda was silent for a minute, as if she was struggling to find the right words.

"What, exactly, do you think of me?" she asked, slowly.

Gerald was taken off-guard. This was not the sort of question Rhonda usually asked people. Most conversations with Rhonda don't extend beyond gossip, fashion, or regular small talk. He had never heard her ask people what they thought of her; like most popular people, she just seemed to naturally assume everyone liked her.

"Well," said Gerald, "you're very…umm…" Gerald was a bit ashamed; even though he had known Rhonda since grade school, he couldn't think of a nice thing to say about her immediately. Rhonda stared at him, waiting for his answer. "You, er, you're a good…dresser. Oh, and…well, you're very ni- well…you're interesting to talk to. And…yeah."

_Smooth move, Gerald, _he thought bitterly. Usually he was better at conversation, but the question had really taken him off-guard and, truthfully, it was hard to think of many nice things to say to Rhonda. Even though she seemed like a decent person at heart (_well, sometimes _thought Gerald), most of the time she came off as very stuck-up and uncaring.

Rhonda looked at him for a moment.

"Anything else?" she asked.

Gerald tried to think of something else to say, but before he could say anything, Rhonda turned to Phoebe.

"Phoebe, what do you think?" asked Rhonda.

Phoebe looked up. She seemed to have been thinking of something to say while Gerald was making a fool of himself.

"To be honest," said Phoebe, "you can act mean sometimes…and sometimes it seems like you don't really care…but, really, I think you're a good person at heart."

Rhonda looked at Phoebe for a minute, then smiled weakly.

"It's nice of you to say that, Phoebe," said Rhonda.

"But, Rhonda," said Gerald hesitantly, "why are you asking this?"

Rhonda turned to him.

"Why?" she said. She looked to Phoebe. "Your friend slapped me in the face. Called me a lot of things."

"I…I'm really sorry," said Phoebe, unable to look Rhonda in the eye. "She's under a lot of stress and-"

Rhonda shook her head. Phoebe stopped talking and Rhonda continued as if she had not said anything.

"Ever since then," she said quietly, "it's been making me think." She looked back to Gerald. "I've known Helga for a long, long time, and she's always seemed like an angry, spiteful, uncaring, crazy little-" She stopped, then looked back at Phoebe, who seemed a bit irritated. "Well, you get the idea. So…well, when the most uncaring person you know calls _you_ uncaring, it's kinda…strange." She turned away from both of them. "I mean, what does that say about me?

"And it's not just that. Before, when Lila showed up, she wanted money too. A lot of money." She looked over at Gerald. "They both wanted it for Arnold, actually. Said he was in some kind of trouble."

Gerald looked away, remembering his friend's sad face when he talked to him earlier and all the things Phoebe had told him about what he had been going through.

"Yeah…yeah, you could say that," he said sadly.

To Gerald's surprise, Rhonda honestly look like she felt bad.

"Well…I thought she was just over reacting and that she needed some rest," said Rhonda, "but she insisted that this was something serious and I…" She looked down. "I guess I didn't take her seriously." She somehow laughed without smiling. "Heh, to be honest, at first I thought Lila and Helga were both completely nuts. I thought there was something in the water or that everyone on Earth had gone crazy except me."

Suddenly, Rhonda seemed to get angry. "I mean, they acted like _I_ was a bad person just because I wouldn't give them that much money. Am I really such a bad person, just because I wouldn't give thousands of dollars to the first person who asked me? Was that enough of a reason to slap me in the face?! Me, of all people!"

She looked at Phoebe and Gerald. Gerald wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what. Despite her anger, what Rhonda said made sense (after all, nobody hands out money just like that), but he knew his friend needed the money. He simply couldn't think of the right thing to say. Phoebe did not say anything either.

Thankfully, Rhonda seemed like she wasn't expecting an answer. Her angry expression faded back into a frown.

"But then…" she said quietly. "I started thinking that…well, maybe the fact that I said no didn't really have a lot to do with why they were angry. I mean…" Rhonda paused for a minute. She looked like she couldn't believe what she was about to say. Her voice dropped to an even quieter tone. "Maybe if I had had a better attitude, maybe if I had offered to help some other way, maybe if I had just taken them the least bit seriously…maybe…I dunno…" She laughed without smiling again. "Well, maybe I wouldn't have gotten this," she said, pointing to the mark on her cheek. "I don't know. I just don't really know what to think."

Gerald, who had thankfully thought of something good to say, smiled.

"Well, if you're worried that you're a bad person, you're not," he said. Rhonda looked up at him. "After all, if you actually feel bad about that, then it shows you have a heart. It's more than you can say for a lot of people out there." He pointed his thumb over at Phoebe. "It's just like she said. Deep down, you really are a good person. Even though sometimes you act like a snob…" He smiled. "A lot of the time actually…"

Rhonda stared at him. Phoebe looked sideways at Gerald, giving him a look that had "What in God's name are you doing?" written all over it.

"Like…a vast majority of the time, really," said Gerald. Rhonda said nothing. Gerald smile faded. "Oh, come on, I'm only _kidding_."

For a moment, he was afraid that Rhonda would not understand that he was joking. Mercifully, Rhonda let out a quiet chuckle. Gerald let out a sigh of relief.

"You know, I don't get you," said Rhonda, no longer chuckling. "You said that Arnold was really in trouble, and I didn't even take Helga or Lila seriously when they told me he was. He's your best friend. You have more of a reason to be mad at me than them. So why aren't you?"

Gerald thought for a minute and was surprised that he already knew the answer.

"Because I don't think Arnold would be that mad at you either," he said. "I know him. He's understanding, optimistic…he's a bold kid. And if he wouldn't hate you, then why should I?"

Rhonda smiled.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said. This statement seemed to make feel a little better. "I've don't think I've seen him seriously mad at anyone before…well, except maybe Helga a few times back in grade school." Rhonda thought for a minute. "Speaking of which…why was Helga mad about this in the first place? I mean, she was really mad, and I've never seen her care anything about Arnold before."

Gerald shrugged, thinking how much he wished he could figure out the answer to that same question. He looked over at Phoebe, whose eyes were now drawn to the floor, her face like a white sheet.

"Anyway," said Phoebe, eager to change the subject, "Gerald's right. Arnold wouldn't be mad. He's too…well, nice for that. And besides, I think he'd understand that you wouldn't have that kind of money anyway. It's really your parent's who have everything. We really should have realized that in the first place before we asked you, but…" She stopped and stared at Rhonda's face. Gerald looked at her and realized that Rhonda's eyes were suddenly looking away from the two, as if she couldn't look them in the eye.

"Umm…you okay Rhonda?" asked Gerald.

"Umm…well," said Rhonda, putting her hand behind her head. She had an expression like a prisoner caught in a lie during an interrogation. "Yeah, here's the thing about that." She bit her lip. "Well, about me not having that kind of money, that's…well, it's…not entirely true."

"What?" said Phoebe and Gerald almost at the same time.

Rhonda stood wide eyed for a second, then turned away.

"Nevermind," she said quickly. "I probably shouldn't have said anything," she said.

"No, please tell us, Rhonda!" said Phoebe with a glimmer of hope in her eye.

Gerald could see that Rhonda looked slightly embarrassed (and perhaps shameful). Fearing that the conversation would break down, Gerald tried to ease the tension.

"its okay, Rhonda," said Gerald calmly. "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to…but we really would like to hear about this if you're willing to talk about it."

Rhonda laughed humorlessly and said "I'm sure it'd just give you more reason to be mad at me." She thought for a minute and her expression softened. "But…maybe it's okay to tell you…"

Gerald looked over at Phoebe, who had a slight smile on her face. Gerald was glad. Not fifteen minutes ago, Phoebe thought all hope to help Arnold was lost and, for a brief period of time, Gerald had the same opinion. Now, all of a sudden, they had created hope where there was none before. All that lied behind them and salvation was Rhonda, a conflicted girl who, although snobbish, was more of a decent person than they once thought. Whether Rhonda would have the means to help them or not remained to be seen. And, even if she could help them, would she?

Gerald didn't know. But he did have hope.

* * *

Helga walked through the door of Bigal's Family Restaurant. She looked around the restaurant. Most of the tables were empty, but there were a few people scattered here and there. However, she could not see the man in sunglasses from here.

_Dammit, _she thought. _With my luck, he's probably left already._ Suddenly afraid, she tried to remember what he had said in the letter. She did remember he said something about getting a table under the name Vigil.

As she thought of the name, she felt another chill run down your spine.

_Stop it, Helga, _she thought to herself. _The name's just a coincidence. What are you, four years old?_

She walked up to where the hostess was seated, still looking around for the strange man.

"Hello, can I help you?" said the hostess in a dull, unenthusiastic voice.

Helga turned and looked at the hostess. She almost gasped when she saw her face. Sitting in front of her, looking bored out of her mind, was Ruth McDougal.

_YOU!_ she thought furiously, thinking back to her days in grade school. Lila may have been the girl Arnold had a crush on for the longest, but she wasn't the first. Ruth McDougal, the dullest, most unappealing girl to ever grace the fifth grade, was the first. And, just like Lila, Helga had hated her with a passion for the longest time, even though she never actually met her or talked to her personally. Arnold was enamored with her for quite a while, until good sense got a hold of him, making him realize how dull she really was. After Arnold stopped caring about her, Helga simply forgot about her. She had certainly not expected to see her again, here of all places.

"Umm…hello?" said Ruth.

Helga shook her head. She realized that she had more important things to worry about than this girl.

"Yes," said Helga, using all of her will to speak in a pleasant tone. "Someone told me to meet them here. He said the table would be under the name Vigil."

Ruth rolled her eyes (Helga noticed this and bit her tongue), and checked the sheet of paper in front of her.

"Vigil…Vigil…" said Ruth to herself. Finally she pointed to something on the piece of paper. "Oh yes, Vigil, table for two." Ruth pointed over to a table in the corner. Helga looked where she pointed and saw the man sitting at the table. His back was to her, but it was clearly him; she instantly recognized his brown coat.

Ruth got up from her stool. Helga at first assumed she was going to led her to the table, but instead she walked towards the bathroom. Helga glared after her, thinking that was quite rude. She also thought how wonderful it was to know that she had been kissed by Arnold and Ruth hadn't. Helga started to walk towards the table, but not before "accidentally" knocking over Ruth's stool with a very faint smile on her face.

She walked towards the table, her mind now focused on the task at hand. She felt her heart beat faster. She was nervous. She had no idea what this man was like or if he should be trusted. For a second, she considered leaving again, but she stopped and thought of Arnold.

_Give me strength, my love,_ she thought, blushing to herself as she unintentionally remembered the kiss. She took a deep breath and, with newfound strength, she walked up to the table.

Mr. Vigil was taking a sip of his coffee when he noticed Helga standing by the table. Just like the last time Helga had seen him, he had his dark sunglasses on. He put his cup down. He smiled.

_Well…he doesn't look like a ghost, that's for sure, _she thought. _Not that I even considered he could be._

"I almost thought you wouldn't show up," said Mr. Vigil. He put his hand to his head. "Oh, how rude of me." He waved his hand to the seat across from him. "Please, sit down, Ms. Pataki."

Helga stared at him for a minute. He sure smiled an awful lot. Helga wasn't certain if that was a good thing or not. Hesitantly, Helga sat down.

Mr. Vigil held up his cup of coffee.

"Coffee?" he said. "I could get the waitress to bring you some."

"No thanks," said Helga. The tone of her voice clearly showed that she was not entirely happy to be there.

Mr. Vigil grimaced a bit, then set down his coffee. He turned his head to the left, looking at nothing in particular. Helga thought he looked nervous to be there.

"Well, I guess we should get right to it then, shouldn't we?" said Mr. Vigil, putting his hands together. "I have a lot to say. And once again, I'd like to say that I'm sorry if I caused you any undue stress."

Helga said nothing.

Mr. Vigil looked around again.

"Well, before I say anything, do you have any questions?"

Helga glared at him. She had many, many questions. It was a stupid question to ask her. Despite this, Helga tried to think of what she wanted to know first.

"Well…first of all…_who are you_?" said Helga, not making any effort to conceal her frustration at this man. "Who are you really, Vigil or whatever your name is? Is that even your real name or just something you stole from an old Green-Eye story? Or are you going to tell me you're really _that_ Vigil?"

Mr. Vigil leaned back in shock. For the first time, he looked genuinely surprised.

"You…you know of our culture?" he said.

"…our culture?" said Helga. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Vigil stared at her for a second. Then he gave a weak smile.

"Very well, Ms. Pataki," he said. "You asked a fair question. Yes, Vigil is my real name. But I am not '_that_ Vigil.'" The man reached for his sunglasses. He hesitated for a moment, then pulled them off. Underneath the sunglasses were the two brightest, piercing green eyes Helga had ever seen.

Helga almost thought her jaw would hit the floor.

_That's impossible, _she thought. _This guy…is he really…_

The man blinked a few times, as if he had trouble see. After a second, he looked at Helga and smiled warmly.

"My name is Luca Vigil," he said, "and I'm a Green-Eye."


End file.
